Heir to the Ring
by Kenya Starflight
Summary: Shortly before the Battle of Endor, Darth Vader discovers a mysterious ring. When he unthinkingly puts it on, he sets into motion a chain of events that will draw him into a past he never knew... and a future he never fathomed.
1. Prologue

**Heir to the Ring**

**A Star Wars/Unicorn Ring Crossover**

_DISCLAIMER: "Star Wars" and everything accompanying it belongs to George Lucas. "The Unicorn Ring" and everything accompanying it belongs to the late Mary Brown and her next-of-kin. Ash and the Shadow belong to me, as they're my own creations._

_"The Unicorn Ring" is a trilogy of books by the aforementioned Mary Brown – "The Unlikely Ones," "Pigs Don't Fly," and "Master of Many Treasures." These are incredible fantasy novels that I highly recommend for anyone who likes epic fantasy with gutsy, fully realized heroines that are far more than just the sum of their parts. And even if you don't like epic fantasy, read "The Unicorn Ring" books anyhow. If you can get your hands on the entire collection – which is available in one book titled "Here There Be Dragonnes," which is how I came across them – so much the better._

_There is one more book in the series – "Dragonne's Eg" – but I have been unable to find it, so consider this my twisted idea of a sequel to "Master of Many Treasures."_

_This is probably the most unusual story I've ever concocted, and it makes no sense even to me. But despite its peculiar pedigree, it begs to be written, so… here it is._

**Prologue **

Isn't it amazing what we accept as unadulterated truth and what we dismiss as total fantasy? One would naturally think that, just as our eyes discern not just complete darkness and overwhelming light but all variances in between, our minds would be equally capable of grasping all shades of gray as well as pure white and pitch black. But it never works that way, does it? People in general prefer to lump almost everything they encounter (individuals, organizations, actions, intentions, ideas, etc.) into two groups – good and evil, right and wrong, salvation and damnation.

The same applies to stories – they are either truth or lies. No happy medium. No third alternate. And too many stories are unfairly dumped into the waste bin of falsehood without receiving the attention they deserve.

When many people dismiss a tale as a mere fable or myth, they do not even stop to consider that there may be a grain of truth embedded in it. All stories grow larger with each telling, as if they draw nourishment and grow every time they are repeated. And all lies, if you penetrate the richly embroidered falsehoods surrounding them, have some sort of truth, however small, at their hearts.

Don't believe me? Just listen to your local gossip. Ever notice how a polite greeting exchanged between neighbors metamorphoses into a full-blown affair? Nothing has changed between the neighbors – it is the incident itself that has grown, taken on a life of its own. And all because someone slips in a falsehood when they relate the tale. It matters not whether the teller was acting out of malice or was well-meaning but had a faulty memory – the story is still altered.

It makes one wonder if all the mythic heroes didn't really exist somewhere as simple everyday men and women, or if those marvelous stories of the creation of worlds by omnipotent deities started out as mere recountings of a child creating toy villages in the mud outside his parents' home.

The story that follows is no different from any other so-called tall tale. Told and retold, recorded and re-recorded so many times that no one is sure if it is one tale or many similar ones, it has grown to gargantuan proportions through repeated tellings and is shrouded in the cobwebs of uncertain facts and outright fabrications.

The bare facts, the bones all these stories and variants share, are thus:

Over four decades ago, a portion of Corusant – not the most glamorous or metropolitan district, but neither was it a slum – was seized by a freak windstorm. How freakish a storm could never be agreed upon. Some tales painted it as the most brutal onslaught the elements had ever unleashed upon the planet; others portrayed it as merely a stiff gale that only seemed stronger than normal because Corusant rarely suffered severe windstorms. The more apocalyptic versions of the story told of skycars tumbling from the sky like dying birds, buildings shuddering under the assault, spires and towers shattering and raining metallic destruction upon the lower levels. A few of the more fantastic accounts even tell of bizarre phenomena, of wind-beasts that took form through airborne dust and terrorized the populace, of voices that spoke and prophesied within the wail and moan of the wind, of children torn loose from their parents' frantic grips only to be set gently down, unharmed, hundreds of kilometers away.

But all tales agree that, hours into the storm, two robed and hooded forms (one clad in black, the other swathed in gleaming silver) were to be seen boarding a small shuttle, accompanied by two others – a black-clad servant carrying a bundle, and a strange multi-colored creature that might have been a pet.

The wind continued to ravage the sector for three days. Then, on the fourth day, the shuttle returned, and the black-cowled being and his servant – now carrying nothing – disembarked. The silver-robed being and the rainbow beast had vanished and would never be seen again.

Then, and only then, did the storm abate, leaving the citizens of Corusant to pick up the pieces and wonder at what had happened.

The identities of these beings, as well as the purpose of their actions, have been lost to those same winds. Who were they? Jedi? Crime lords? Business partners? Lovers? Did one murder the other? Was the first accompanying the second back to his homeworld? Why did the extraordinary storm occur in the first place? Did it have anything to do with this mysterious pair?

Anyone else might simply dismiss the entire tale as the invention of a fantasy novelist. But of late, this story intrigued me, and I wondered about the truth that must lie beneath it.

For sometime during those four days of chaos, on a distant sphere of rock orbiting dual stars, I was born.


	2. An Ivory Ring

**Chapter I – An Ivory Ring**

Rage. Pain. Despair.

If a Jedi-turned-Sith has any friends, it is these three. Rage, Pain, and Despair – his closest companions, his constant scourges, his only links to what is left of his soul.

Over the years I had grown accustomed to these three. At a young age I had learned to beat them back, keep them at bay, but now I could only resign myself to their presences. They were my secret strength and deepest scars, and at times the only things that kept me going, kept me from sinking into the blackness that at times threatened to consume me.

My master would mock me at the times when the Rage, Pain, and Despair would conspire together to overwhelm me. A Sith had to be strong, he told me. A Sith used the Rage and Pain to further his own ends, to fuel the fires of the dark side. And Despair… there was no place for such in the Order. Despair was for the weak, the slaves to the dark side.

And in my master's opinion, the creatures of the galaxy were his slaves. Even me.

There are few enough who know my story, and fewer still who know the how and why of it. For those who are reading these words, however, I will not bore you with a recounting, for doubtless you are familiar with the fall of Anakin Skywalker and the rise of Darth Vader. Other aspects of my story may need… clarification. But more on that later.

Suffice it to say that I was a man betrayed.

Rage. Pain. Despair. I think the Rage was the least of these three evils, for it blazed like a black fire in my soul, driving away the dark shadows of the other two as long as I fueled it. It was the Rage that drove me on the battlefield, goaded me in my quest to hunt down the Jedi, powered me in my struggles. But there were times when the other two, the Pain and Despair, would join forces and blindside me in a vulnerable moment, when my Rage lay dormant and my soul lay bare to their torment.

My master's solution seemed simple enough – meditation. Make them your servants, not your dominators. Overpower them and use them to fuel your own ends.

He could say this, of course, with the blind ignorance of one who has never had cause to know of Pain and Despair. He had never tasted of love, comradeship, friendship – he could never know the true meaning of their twisted counterparts. Betrayal, loneliness, hatred – not the conditioned hatred passed down through the Sith Order, but true hatred bred from love lost and abused, hatred born of the heart and not of the mind.

Palpatine… how I hated him. I hated him with a passion greater than that which drove me to murder my own master, greater than that which possessed me to lead the massacre within the walls of the Temple. For he had manipulated me, toyed with me, used me. The deepest desires of my heart were pawns in his game, and my soul was the prize when he finally bested every opponent in said game. The Jedi, the Republic, the Confederacy, Count Dooku, Mace Windu, Yoda, myself… all defeated in his perverse game.

And oh, did I lose. The brotherhood I had shared with Obi-wan, my truest, deepest love and the child she carried, even the freedom to live a life without pain, without mechanical aid… all lost, gambled away in a stupid wager when I attempted to play Palpatine's game.

Small wonder the Rage, Pain, and Despair had grown so close.

Sometimes, in my meditations, the three would besiege me until the only escape came from sinking into the furthest recesses of my mind, to a refuge where their powers were impotent, where their influence could not touch me. In some ways, the escape was just as bad as the Rage, Pain, and Despair, for the images that sprang forth were unsettling to say the least… but I took some small comfort knowing that I had a weapon against my greatest foes.

But lately the images had grown clearer, the refuge in my mind more distinct. It was as if latent memories were awakened every time I sought escape from the dark side. Strange creatures, flashes of power beyond description, faces that were at once unfamiliar and familiar, snippets of conversation that I must have overheard a lifetime ago…

…a deformed, masked girl, hunchbacked and ragged… a knight in rusted armor… a shabby white stallion… a plain, fat woman leading a blind man…

…_Oh wise young maid, wise for all your tattered clothes and crouched back – you have discovered what all others could not see… see, maid, see, O wandering ones! See, and marvel, for this is probably the only time you will witness such again!…_

…a great white sea-beast, pinned beneath a fallen rock, its murky green blood staining the waters… a blue-scaled dragon blasting fire as it soared from its cavern… another dragon, black and yellow-eyed, rising from a great stone-studded plain… a black bird, a mongrel dog, a raging brown-furred beast like a gargantuan Wookie…

…_Under and over and about and through this old world of ours there flow sources of Power, as aimless as streams and rivers. As I said, they are neither good nor bad, they are just there…_

…a woman screaming, swords clanging, flames enveloping my vision, a beast of rainbow charging down a pack of brute savages, the treachery of a young man bringing fiery destruction to the woman he adored…

…_All Hallow's Eve? I might have known it. She had her revenge after all. Fifteen years… oh, Lord, was it worth it all? …_

I never questioned these fragments, only accepted them as one accepts an unwanted side-effect of a necessary medication. Jumbled and senseless as they were, they were a small price to pay for escape, however temporary, from the pain.

Then the day came when my world was disrupted in the space of a breath.

_Break…_

It was an oppressive day on Corusant, muggy and breezeless. The sky seemed to hover lower than usual, pressing the heat of late summer downward, a ceiling of ferrocrete-gray clouds keeping the warm, smelly atmosphere trapped. Creatures had to gasp for air, as if the humid heat leached away oxygen, and even the simple act of rising from sleep seemed more trouble than it was worth.

I was in an irritable mood that day, stalking through the corridors of the Imperial Palace like some irate demon set on harrowing the doomed. Two officers had died at my hand just that morning, and a third escaped death only by virtue of a distraction in the form of a summons from my master. It seemed all elements – the stifling weather, the incompetence of my subordinates, the demands of the Emperor, the approaching conflict over Endor that I at once anticipated and dreaded – had conspired to put me in the worst temper possible.

And the stormtrooper idling in the hallway did nothing to help matters.

The soldier in question was reclining against the inside of a doorway in the main corridor leading to my master's audience chamber, conveniently obscured from the sight of the guards. At first I thought him a spy, but upon studying closer I realized he was merely lazing around. A specimen from the newer batches of clones, I theorized, one of the inferior grades. I had little tolerance for those, for they were next to useless on the battlefield.

"My lord," the clone greeted, offering a salute without changing his body position in the least.

I considered killing him then and there, but something stopped me. Whether it was a vague premonition or simply the unwillingness to leave a body with no explanation, who can say?

"Don't you have anything better to do, soldier?" I snarled instead.

"Yessir," he replied, straightening and marching away. For a moment his armor seemed to gleam silver… but perhaps that was merely the cloud-filtered light pouring through the nearby windows.

I then turned my attention to the doorway where the trooper had been resting. Odd, I'd never seen this room before. Or I had, but I'd always been too preoccupied to pay much notice. But today, something behind the door seemed to be pulsing with power, resting, watching, waiting…

Waiting for what?

There was no keycard slot on the door and no keypad, only an open/close button. I pressed it and entered the room. What could my master be keeping in here? What would make him so confident to keep it in an unlocked chamber? And why had I never sensed it before?

It was a small room, approximately four meters square with a ceiling just high enough to accommodate my height. The walls were paneled, not in metal as I expected, but in a dark brown wood polished mirror-smooth. The floor, again, was not metal but a dark blue-gray stone in which I found myself vaguely reflected like a ghostly doppelganger. On the far wall stood two iron pedestals, and upon each pedestal rested a transparisteel display case.

I ventured a step nearer, puzzled. It wasn't the layout of the room that confused me – rather, it was the items displayed in these cases. I approached the pedestal on my right, carefully lifting the display case to more closely inspect its contents.

At first glance it appeared to be a scrap of some animal's hide, so old it was coming apart in great flakes. But buried within the disintegrating skin was a round, hard object, as large as a man's head and gleaming with a creamy iridescent gloss like a massive pearl. Was this the source of the power I had detected? Upon further probing with the Force I decided not – whatever power this object had once contained, it was now dead. Something lay within, yes, but it was as lifeless as the rotting hide about it.

Closing the case, I turned my attention to the second item. Why this would be so highly prized by the Emperor I had no idea. Stang, I couldn't even tell what it was. It could have been anything – a shaving of wax, a curl of horn, a fossilized shell. And yet… it seemed to glow with an intelligence all its own.

It seemed as if my hands were operating independently from my brain. I watched myself open the display case, lift the delicate circle of ivory-colored material, lift it to the light. There was no doubting it – this was the source of the power I had felt. And even as I held the ring, it seemed to throb as if with a heartbeat, its energy pulsing and ebbing, a primitive song that somehow seemed hauntingly familiar…

A cold darkness touched my awareness. The Emperor had just arrived at his palace. And he would expect to find me in his audience chamber awaiting his arrival. Did he know my location? I considered shielding my mind, but that would only arouse his suspicion. I settled for closing the second case, glancing quickly about the room to ensure all was as I had found it…

The second case was empty. Where was the item it had concealed? Had I dropped it? Crushed it by accident?

A glint of gold betrayed its location. I raised my hand disbelievingly. Somehow, without even thinking about it, I had slid the ring of ivory onto the middle finger of my left hand.

Frantically I pulled at the ring, twisting, tearing, but it wouldn't move. It seemed to have constricted around my finger, not tightly enough to damage the cybernetic components, but still as snugly as if it had been molded there. None of my efforts could shift it. Oh good stars, this would not please my master at all…

Fire erupted in my left shoulder, the socket blazing and searing. I grunted and staggered, clutching my burning shoulder, forgetting all but the pain. Golden flames licked the edges of my vision… the entire room seemed to lurch under my feet… my sight was momentarily dazzled by a burst of gold and silver light…

Then all abated as swiftly as it had begun. The floor remained in place, nothing hampered my sight, my arm…

My arm!

I raised my left arm, the ring catching the light like the flame of a candle. My arm was no longer metal and circuits, no longer a droid-like prosthetic, but flesh and blood. I could feel the play of muscles and tendons as I flexed and rotated the joints, feel my pulse beating in my wrist, feel the texture of my armor and gauntlet against my skin. I was restored – well, not totally, for my right arm remained mechanical. But still, even a partial restoration…

What else could this ring do? I tried again to pry it off, eager to see if it could do the same for my right arm if I placed it on a finger of my right hand… but again, it wouldn't move.

The cold presence of my master drew nearer. I had to leave the room. The second case was still empty, but that couldn't be helped. I could only hope the Emperor would not come into this room for a while. Swiftly I exited the chamber, strode down the hallway, bypassed the red-armored guards, and entered the audience chamber.

I didn't have long to wait. The doors hissed open within a few minutes, admitting my master's hunched, decaying form.

I sank to one knee. "What is thy bidding, my master?"

The hideous mouth leered open in a sneering grin. "Good news, my apprentice. The trap is set, and the Rebels have taken the bait."

My stomach turned at his gleeful laugh. How could this depravity amuse him? I clenched my fist in anger, straining to keep my emotions in check. He could not know how much I hated him, despised him, longed to destroy him once and for all, if only to end my bondage…

The ring pulsed once, then was still. Somehow, I got the feeling that it had acknowledged the threat my master represented. Once again I had to struggle to shield my emotions, this time those of fear. The ivory-gold of the ring was horribly conspicuous against the black of my glove…

"You will go to the Endor system," the Emperor went on. "You will tell Commander Jerjerrod to step up his pace – the Death Star is sadly behind schedule. You will stay aboard the station and await my arrival."

"Yes, my master," I replied, bowing my head.

He raised a hand over my head, and I felt for a moment like a dog before a brutal master, not sure whether an uplifted palm would mean an approving caress or an angry blow.

"You are dismissed," was all he said.

I stood and left the chamber, only severe discipline keeping me from fleeing his presence. I hated him. I hated him with a passion. I could hardly stand to be in his presence…

I glanced down at the ring. How had he not noticed it? But to my surprise, the ring had somehow changed its color. Neither ivory nor gold, it was now almost totally transparent, showing only a vague outline and the black leather underneath. Only a sharp eye could spot it now. But the sense of an inner power had not diminished at all.

I shook my head and continued on my way, wondering just what I had mistakenly unleashed with my tampering.


	3. Fight and Flight

**Chapter II – Fight and Flight**

Luke Skywalker.

From the moment I heard his name – the dying words of a Rebel who had been tortured beyond endurance – I had become obsessed with finding him. For months on end I could think of nothing else. Find him, find that upstart farm youth who had almost single-handedly demolished the first Death Star, find him before the last of the Jedi could sink their claws into him and shape him into their savior…

Find the last fragment of my past, and in that fragment, perhaps, a snatch of hope.

The Emperor knew that I would stop at nothing to locate him. And he knew that, with my son at my side, I could find the strength to overthrow him. He had to know, or why else would he have done what he did?

I remember as if it were yesterday – aboard the second Death Star, Luke a prisoner of the Emperor, myself standing at my master's side, only a spectator in the battle between the Emperor's will and my son's soul. And my son was losing, being slowly but unstoppably drawn into the pit of the dark side by his own anger.

"I am defenseless," taunted the Emperor. "Strike me down, and your journey to the dark side of the Force will be complete."

Luke turned to stare at the dark being, his face nearly mad with anger and fear. He knew the Rebellion's strike against the Death Star was failing, that his friends on the moon of Endor were in grave danger. And try as he might to deny it, he was sorely tempted by the Emperor's words.

Oh my son! I knew his turmoil better than even he could, for I had been in his place. To watch and know that those he loved were in danger, to know that perhaps the dark side could save them… Yet he did not know, as I did, that to surrender to the dark side would accomplish nothing, only accelerate the damage. I had given my soul to the Emperor in exchange for the life of Padme and her unborn child, but despite my payment they were cruelly taken from me. If Luke gave in to the dark side, he would save nothing and lose everything.

I longed to speak to him, to give some comfort, but some dark force held me rooted to the spot. The Emperor knew my mind and heart, and he would not have me disrupt his plans. I could only watch in torment as he slowly corrupted my son.

Green fire burst across the field of space, and the death blast of a cruiser illuminated the battlefield. At that, Luke lost all control. His saber flew into his grasp.

For an insane moment I rejoiced – my son would defeat the Emperor at last! The despot who had controlled the galaxy and my own soul for so long would die at the hands of Padme's child…

But a stab of fire lanced up my left arm.

The ring. In the events of the last few weeks I had forgotten about it. It remained transparent and close to invisible… yet it now burned upon my hand like fire, spurring me to some action. But what action…

My arms moved of their own volition, igniting my own weapon, blocking the strike that would have beheaded my master. The tyrant showed no fear, only grinned and sniggered demonically. At that moment I understood – if Luke killed him in hatred, he would descend down that same dark path I had all those years ago.

Luke was past reason with fury, slashing, hacking, the anger that would have crushed the Emperor now directed at me. I blocked and parried, suddenly terrified at the monster my son had become. And a sickening thought came to me – had I been such a monster during the Tusken massacre… the attack on the Jedi Temple… the destruction of countless Rebel bases? Had I worn that same expression of mad passion?

The rest… the rest is a crazed blur. You know the story, else you wouldn't be reading these words. The last thing you need is a blow-by-blow description of a battle you have probably seen waged a thousand times. No, it is what happens after that you must hear. But I'm getting ahead of myself…

Reason did prevail a few times, when Luke extinguished his weapon and refused to fight me. I would have gladly put down my own weapon then, but the painful influence of the Emperor would not leave. Strange, I didn't remember his Force-influence hurting before. It was as if his power had to fight another's influence to affect me. But he forced me on, goading Luke into defending himself, into attacking me upon hearing the Emperor's words through my mouth… the threat to turn his sister to the dark side.

The battle ended abruptly, when I stumbled and fell, unable to retreat anymore. Luke hammered at my defenses, batted my saber to one side…

Something very like pain shattered the Emperor's grip on my mind, and my cybernetic right arm, still clutching my saber, skidded away. I couldn't rise – not out of weakness, but because Luke's saber now hovered right over my throat.

"Good!" applauded the Emperor. "Good! Now strike your father down, and take his rightful place at my side!"

I turned to face my master, unbelieving. No. That couldn't be right. He had told me that Luke would by MY student, MY apprentice. He couldn't seek to replace me with my own son! And what of all I'd done for him? I had sacrificed everything to become his servant, I had sunk to the very depths of every hell imaginable to please him…

Luke stared at me, and for the first time understanding crossed his face. For the first time, he knew why I had done what I had done. And he understood all I had lost in the name of the dark side… and all he was about to lose.

He threw the saber away.

"Never," he hissed. "I'll never join the dark side." He faced my master bravely. "You failed, your Highness. I am a Jedi, like my father before me."

The Emperor was no longer smiling. If anything, he looked angrier than I had ever seen him.

"So be it… Jedi," he snarled, curling his lips around the final word as if it were profanity. "If you will not turn… you will be destroyed."

And blue lightning enveloped my son.

I struggled to my feet, still dazed by that final blow. The ring burned into my finger like fire, so intense that for a moment I expected it to glow with the heat. As if in a dream I stared, watched, as my son writhed in torment, the lightning dancing and twisting around and through him. My master's face also danced and twisted in malevolent glee…

No. Not my master. My master would never have betrayed me. As if a veil had been pulled away I realized what he had planned to do – have Luke kill me and, in the process, gain him as a servant. He had no intention of letting me train him, just as he'd had no intention of instructing me on how to save my Padme. I had been a pawn once again…

But I would be a pawn no longer.

"Father, help me!" Luke cried in a voice ragged with pain.

A surge of power flooded up my left arm, power that was met by another force that rose from deep in my heart. I turned toward my master a final time… and grabbed him in a deadly embrace.

The Emperor writhed, bucked, spewed lightning that coursed through me and sent every nerve and circuit in my body screaming in agony. My legs nearly gave out, my heart stabbed with pain, every breath became more labored than the last…

With the last of my strength, the last of my hate, I flung my former master into the reactor core.

The pain ebbed, and with it the power. I collapsed at the edge of the pit, watching him fall. His body tumbled nearly a hundred meters down before bursting into flames, and the last of his dark power blasted upward in a shock wave that nearly knocked me off balance. I hung there for a moment at that edge, wondering if it wouldn't be better to follow him down, to end the pain once and for all…

Someone pulled me back, and I fell to my side to see Luke staring at me, eyes wide with emotion.

I do not know how long we lay there, too weak to move, too moved to speak. But somewhere along the line the ring burned again, and I realized we were in danger. I also realized that I was unable to stand, that I could never make it off the station in time…

I pushed Luke away. He had to save himself. My life was worth nothing.

He wouldn't listen, insistently pulling at me in an effort to haul me to my feet. I struggled against him, batting at his hands…

Later I would wonder if the ring played a role in it, but at the moment all I knew was a golden mist obscuring my vision, and of my conscious mind gradually slipping away.

_Break…_

Fevered dreams tormented my mind, snatches of memory, scraps of half-forgotten events, all haphazardly clumped together like the swept-together remnants of a smashed vase. Dimly I recognized some of them as my own memories, but others… others were less clear. They seemed to come from another source entirely…

It took me awhile to recognize that other source as the ring.

For an age I lay there, completely at the mercy of my own subconscious and the ring's whimsy, jumbled images crowding my mind's eye…

…a battle droid felled by a sapphire lightsaber, a Jedi youngling petrified by betrayal and fear, a young man's scream of denial as he learned his true parentage, a fountain of molten lava bursting centimeters away…

…_you were the Chosen One, Anakin! You were supposed to destroy the Sith, not join them…_

…a white horse savagely attacking a filthy would-be rapist, a knight in rusted armor charging a massive spider, a girl and a menagerie of animals fleeing a squadron of soldiers, a black dragon landing to greet a stunningly beautiful maiden…

…_you stuffed the memory away for so long, just because you were afraid of the hurt. But it was a long time ago, and things – and people – change. Now you have let it out, you will heal, believe me, and be whole…_

"Father?" As if from far away I heard Luke's voice. "Father, you awake yet?"

But the memories weren't done with me yet. I had a fleeting glimpse of the first Death Star going nova, of a blind man staggering through the aftermath of a bloody attack on a caravan, of Padme's look of terror as invisible hands closed on her throat, of a man and woman bearing the brunt of the wrath of a cluster of enraged dragons…

…_but I did get something out of it! And now those dragons can search till Doomsday, God curse them and curse you all! Do with it what you will…_

It was those last words that finally shocked me awake, bewildered, my mind scrambling to recall what was going on. The Death Star, Luke, the Emperor…

I was lying on a bunk in some sort of starship, a medical monitor strapped to my left arm. Luke was seated on a stool and watching me, an expression of concern on his face.

"Where are we?"

"On a shuttle whose autopilot is bound for Corellia," Luke replied. "I have some contacts there; we'll be safe for the time being."

Bemused, I flexed the fingers of my right hand. Luke had evidently been busy while I'd been unconscious.

"I found some medical supplies in the hold," Luke explained. "Including a cybernetic arm."

For a long moment I could only stare at him. My son… the child I thought I had lost with Padme's death… the young man who had come back to save me, even knowing full well what I was and what cause I worked for…

"You deserve better than this," I told him. "Than a life on the run, as a fugitive…"

"I'm not leaving you," Luke said fiercely. "I'm not going to lose my father again." His mouth took on a stubborn set that I knew all too well. "I'll go back to the Alliance someday, but I have to help you first."

He made it sound so simple, didn't he? But we both knew that I was the galaxy's most wanted man now. With the Emperor dead and the Empire in chaos – for Palpatine hadn't bothered to name an heir to the throne – the only place for me was in a jail cell on death row. And if Luke chose to harbor me as a fugitive, he could very well put his place in the Rebellion in jeopardy.

"Go back," I urged him. "Back to your friends. They need you more than I."

"I've already sent them a message," Luke replied. "Leia knows about… us. She says she understands. And she's promised to keep quiet."

I smiled beneath the mask. "She's your sister," I said. "Your twin."

He smiled. "Is she… like mother?"

My own smile faded as memories of Padme returned. At the very end she had rebuked me, telling me that she could not follow me down the path I had chosen… and in my anger, I had killed her and nearly killed the children she carried. And I had further brutalized my children – her children – our children… torturing Leia on the Death Star… dismembering Luke on Bespin…

"Not now," I protested. "I will tell you more of your mother later… but not now."

He nodded. "Okay."

I clasped his hand tightly. Oh, my son… so quick to forgive, so quick to love, to trust…

An alarm chimed, interrupting our moment together.

"We're emerging from hyperspace," Luke told me, as if I were a child that had never heard that sound before. "I'd better go land us so we don't make a crater coming in."

His attempt at humor fell rather flat, but at least he tried.

When I disembarked from the shuttle, leaning slightly on Luke for support, I saw we had landed in the wilds of Corellia, some distance from any civilization. It was just dusk on this part of the planet, and mist was beginning to curl around the young trees that marked the edge of the forest. Looking deeper, the elder trees were visible, their branches more bowed and their bark shaggy with moss. Deeper still, darkness reigned, and such darkness was slowly bleeding out to encompass the rest of the land.

"We can always spend the night in the shuttle," Luke suggested.

I shook my head. I had been around technology for so long. For some reason, I wanted to spend some time in the company of the natural world. "Here suits."

Though Luke maintained that I needed my rest, I insisted on helping him set up shelter for the night and carrying supplies out of the shuttle. I paid for my stubbornness later, when my still-battle-weary body finally had enough and I spent the last of my energy sitting heavily beside the fire. We had a perfectly fine cooking reactor and lantern among our supplies, but a fire sounded good to us. I suppose we wanted to forget, just for a moment, that we were in the middle of a war, on the run for our lives, and pretend that we were simply on a father-son camping trip.

"Hungry?" Luke asked, settling beside me with a ration tray.

I shook my head. "I am mostly machine. I do not take in nutrition the same way you do."

"Oh." He stared at his tray a moment. "I hope we have everything aboard the shuttle for…"

"We should. The shuttle you… borrowed is the one that transported me to the Death Star in the first place."

He whistled. "Lucky for us." He turned his attention to his food for a few minutes, and while he was occupied I reached forward to add a little more fuel to our fire…

"What's that?" Luke asked thickly through a mouthful of food.

The firelight had reflected off the ring for a moment – just a moment, but enough to catch Luke's attention. I held my left hand out a moment to inspect it. The ring was no longer transparent, but metallic and shining, not quite silver but not quite gold. For a moment I wondered how I could explain this to my son without sounding as if I were going insane – a ring discovered in the Emperor's palace, one that had fused itself to my hand, one that restored severed limbs and warned of impending danger…

I was saved from my explanation by a crash in the nearby forest.

Our heads rose simultaneously at the sound of something heavy and vaguely metallic falling among the brush and fallen branches on the forest floor. One could have dismissed it as a rock falling down a nearby hill, I suppose… except that the crash was promptly followed by a feminine voice uttering a scorching expletive that would have stunned a Hutt speechless.

Dead silence followed. I would have suspected that we had been followed in our flight, except that the ring was pulsing again, calmly but with a sense of underlying urgency. Whoever she was, she was far from a threat – if anything, she was someone we needed, someone who could help us.

"Well," the feminine voice said resignedly, "seeing as it's kinda pointless to keep hiding from you guys now…" Shuffling and rustling as she edged closer. "Promise not to shoot if I come out?"

Luke hesitated.

"She means no harm," I told him. In the general direction of our interloper I said "We will hold our fire if you show yourself."

"Okay," she said unsurely. "Please don't laugh, scream, or freak out, all right?"

"Lady, you can't possibly be that strange," Luke replied.

"Wanna bet?"

And a bizarre creature stepped into the light of our fire.


	4. Shards of Mythology

**Chapter III – Shards of Mythology**

For a mind-bending moment I wondered if the Jedi's old foe, General Grievous, had somehow sprung back to life. The figure emerging from the forest bore a startling resemblance to the droid general, down to the trademark facial plate and biological eyes. But once the shock dissipated and I took a better look at our guest I realized that this was a dissimilar creature – perhaps a different model, or an upgraded version? Her body seemed more compact, less skeletal than Grievous' had been, and the fatal flaw in the torso – the unfused plates that stretched apart during strenuous activity – apparently had been fixed. While Grievous had been built primarily for strength, she was constructed more for speed and agility, and while the general had a strange saurian gait as he walked, her movements were smooth and cat-like. And her eyes… not the yellow orbs with slits for pupils, but human eyes with golden-brown irises.

Her gaze moved from me to Luke, then back to me. Her face was understandably blank of all emotion, but her voice was friendly.

"Hi," she said simply.

"Uh… hi." Ah, the masterful eloquence of my son.

She waved at the fire with a steel-clawed hand. "Mind if I have a sit?"

"Not at all," I replied, trying as hard as I could to be convincingly friendly, though it was a challenge. Old memories of old battles died hard.

She strode toward the fire and swept her ragged, dirty gray cloak to one side before sitting, cross-legged, on the opposite side of the flames, her metallic body glittering in the flickering light. And in the time it took for her to take her seat, all discomfort vanished. It was as if she belonged there, had always belonged there, was a companion in our flight and had merely returned from an errand of some sort.

The ring prickled as if laughing, and I discreetly placed my right hand over my left to hide it.

"So," the droid-woman said at last, breaking the silence, "what's up?"

"Not a lot," Luke replied, returning to his dinner now that it was obvious that this creature was no immediate threat.

"On the run, right?" she pressed, giving me a penetrating look.

"And if we were, what would that mean to you?" I inquired. For all that the ring approved of her presence, she could very well be a bounty hunter.

"Sweetheart, it's been a week since our dearly departed Palps bit the proverbial dust," she remarked, cocking her head at an amused angle. "The entire galaxy's buzzing with the news that his evil stooge Vader escaped and is dragging a captive Luke Skywalker along for the ride – though from the looks of it, he's going willingly. You can't go anywhere without someone trying to sell you a bootleg holo of the Death Star exploding or an Emperor action figure with a lightsaber jammed… someplace. And there's a bounty on your head big enough to get the attention of every slimepicker for light years. Don't play me for an idiot; of course you're on the run."

She was bright, no question of that. Whether she was harmless was another story. Her mechanical brethren Grievous had been far from harmless…

Her next words put me slightly at ease. "Don't worry, I'm on the run too. I've got no reason to want to risk my neck by ratting on the two of you." She touched her forehead in a sort of salute. "Name's Jessalyn. You can call me Jessa."

"Hello, Jessa." I gave a welcoming nod.

"Why are you on the run?" asked Luke.

"Long story," Jessa replied in a bored tone. "Nothing interesting."

"Everyone's got an interesting story," Luke rejoined.

She shrugged, her servomotors whirring. "Well, I suppose it begins on my homeworld… Earth."

I nodded. Luke would not have heard of Earth. The most anyone aside from the highest government officials had known about the planet for hundreds of years was that it was forbidden to even approach it. Both the Republic and the Empire had maintained that law, and for good reason – the citizens of the planet were hopelessly backward, not ready for contact with the outside galaxy. The most curious thing about the planet was that, somehow, many of its citizens knew about our galaxy, though they believed it to be fictional.

"I had an older brother – about eight years older than me, actually. His name was Harley, which, considering our last name was Davidson, I thought was really, really cruel. But anyhow, he was a pretty cool guy, especially since he didn't think it beneath him to get down on the floor to play with a little sister, even if she demanded they play dolls. He balanced this out, of course, by getting me obsessed with Star Wars, which I didn't mind at all…" Her eyes faded away in a far-off look.

"What does this have to do with you being on the run?" asked Luke.

"I'm getting there," she replied testily. "Harley… well… he died when I was eleven. He and some buddies were playing with fireworks, see. I took it pretty hard, but Mom was worse. His body was barely in the ground before she went off and started this huge campaign to get all fireworks banned in our state. And I got pretty ignored in the process. She didn't come to my choir concerts anymore, even when I had a solo part. She didn't even make it to my middle school grad ceremony."

Years of resentment oozed from every word now. "It got to the point where the only time she paid me any attention was when she was yelling at me for breaking curfew or any other rules. It was always 'Harley would never have stayed out after curfew without calling,' or 'Harley never back-talked me like this' or 'Why can't you be like Harley was?' It was humiliating – I mean, what do you say when you get compared to a dead kid?"

"I guess I was just desperate for the same attention Harley was getting now that he was gone. Maybe that's why I did what I did." She stared at her clawed hands as her voice dropped to a guilty whisper. "Dad took pills. He had a degenerative disc in his back. And one day when he and Mom were at some city council meeting to propose the fireworks ban again, I popped them. The whole bottle. I was so stupid… my last thought was… I can't believe this… maybe now she'd care about me…

"When I woke up, I couldn't feel my arms or legs – or any other part of my body. I thought maybe it was some reaction to the drug, but it wasn't. Someone had broken into the house just a few minutes after I passed out. Someone not of our world." She rapped her fist against her chestplate. "Someone looking for a perfect guinea pig for his latest project. His name was Dalzor, and he called himself a scientist." She snorted. "Sadistic moron would be my choice of words. He liked to take apart droids and creatures and mix and match their parts. Remember General Grievous? He's Dalzor's pet project."

"I gathered that," I replied.

"Figured you did. He always said I was Grievous' sister, in a sense. But I hated being an experiment, hated being in that sicko's lab. I asked him what he'd done with my body, and he said he'd left it back on Earth. A gruesome murder, it was being called. And he kept reminding me that it was my fault, that if I hadn't tried to poison myself I wouldn't be in this position."

"So you killed him," I speculated.

"Wrong. Another project got out of hand. Destroyed Dalzor and the entire complex. I barely got out in one piece." She clenched both mechanical hands, eyes bright with fury. "But thanks to the rap Grievous gets, I can't get a moment's piece. There's a dismantle-on-sight order on any droid that came out of Dalzor's lab, and I can't say I blame them." Her eyes rested on me. "I have a goal, and that's to find a scientist who's willing to give me a body again. I'm tired of being seen as a sideshow freak. And when I'm human again, I'm finding my way home."

I sympathized with Jessa – her plight was horrible. I, too, knew what it was like to be considered less than human. And yet her spirit was admirable. She seemed confident that a means to free herself from her cybernetic prison existed. I had once harbored such a hope…

"I'm sorry, Jessa," Luke said kindly.

"Don't be. Not your guys' fault." Her eyes softened a little. "Sorry to spill my guts – and I mean that figuratively – but sometimes one just needs to vent. You never do get accustomed to it."

"Very true," I replied. "You are welcome to travel with us a ways, Jessa, though even I do not know where our path leads." I turned to Luke. This jaunt had been his idea…

"My friend Wedge has some old friends in a remote village on this planet," Luke explained. "They've always said that if I ever needed a favor, no matter how big, they were always available. Hopefully they'll be able to take us in for a while, until things settle down."

"Hiding out, huh?" asked Jessa. "Not a bad idea, though I don't think…" Her voice trailed off as her gaze rested on my hands. "What's that on your finger, Vader?"

I looked down. I had moved my hand just slightly, but enough to expose the ring again. It was now a brilliant gold, as if purposely trying to draw attention.

"Can I have a look?" Jessa's voice was curious, but something in the tone seemed to suggest that she knew something about the ring. Could this be why the ring had so readily admitted her into our group?

I extended my hand, and she slid around the fire to sit by me. Taking my hand in hers, she examined the ring closely, murmuring so quietly I could not discern separate words. She twisted it experimentally – strange, it was loose enough to rotate on my finger, but tight enough not to budge when she pulled gently at it.

"Interesting," she mused. "Heard of these. Never actually seen one, though. And how it ended up HERE, on Darth Vader's hand…" She looked up, eyes shining with mirth. "Very interesting."

"What is it?" asked Luke, who was now looking over my shoulder at the ring. "How come I haven't noticed it until now? And where'd you get it?"

"I found it in the Emperor's palace," I explained. "I do not know what possessed me to put it on…"

Jessa crowed with laughter. "No use to Palps, but his own right-hand man could wear it! Oh, this is one in the old coot's eye, man! Palps, I hope you're rolling in your grave right now!"

"Palps?" Luke repeated, a wry look on his face.

"Perhaps you can let us in on your joke?" I requested.

"Sorry…" she gasped, wiping her eyes – evidently the sadistic Dalzor had left her lachrymal glands intact when he'd implanted her brain and vital organs in the droid shell. "It's just… let me explain… the ring… if I'm not mistaken, it's a unicorn ring."

"A what?"

"Unicorn ring. A unicorn is a beast of Earth mythology, looking like a white horse with a single horn on its forehead… um, you guys do know about horses, don't you?"

"The planets of Endor and Dathomir are home to equine subspecies, just as Earth is," I told her.

"Oh good. Unicorns were beasts of powerful magic, and they could heal wounds and sickness, communicate with any person or beast, sense danger, and a lot more. What you have here…" She indicated the ring. "…is a fragment of its horn."

"I thought you said they were mythological," I reminded her.

"I _thought _they were mythological," she corrected. "But then, seeing as I thought you guys were mythological before I was abducted, goes to show I'm not all-knowing." She tapped the ring again. "Even separated from the unicorn, this chunk of its horn is still capable of great things. It can warn you of approaching danger, heal wounds, allow you to communicate with animals… who knows what else?"

I stared at the ring with new respect. Small wonder Palpatine had kept it hidden. He would have initiated a hundred coups had he allowed knowledge of this artifact's existence to reach the rest of the Empire. I knew of many warlords who would do anything for such power…

That sobered me instantly. I knew I had carried out horrific acts in order to gain power…

"Just how powerful is this?" I asked warily.

"Depends on how long it's been separated from the unicorn," she replied.

If it could transform a droid limb into flesh and blood, it could not have been away from the original source for very long.

"Incredible," breathed Luke.

"Funny, though," Jessa went on. "In the books I read, it always went on the right hand… but not like you can do anything to correct it now…"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Once the ring's on, it stays on. The only way it'll come off is if you don't need it anymore, or if you don't deserve it."

I glanced up sharply. "What makes you think I deserve this? I am a monster, a murderer…"

"Evidently it thinks you deserve it," she shot back, nodding at my hand. "And that's all that counts." She climbed to her feet. "Well, I'm beat for now. I dunno about you guys, but I think I'm gonna hit the sack. Anyone mind?"

"You two sleep," Luke told us. "I'll keep first watch."

"I'll take second," Jessa volunteered.

"And what am I supposed to do?" I inquired, not happy with being treated like an invalid.

"Father, you need your rest. The Emperor almost killed you. I'm not going to let you kill yourself because you're too stubborn to take it easy."

Why was he so concerned with my health anyhow? I didn't deserve life any more than I deserved this shard of unicorn. Nor did I deserve the title of Father he insisted on using. I had acted despicably for so many years. The only thing I was truly deserving of was a war-criminal trial. And yet Luke insisted on protecting me, keeping me from facing justice, while Jessa seemed convinced that I was worthy to wield the considerable power of the ring.

The ring tightened slightly around my finger, as if trying to impart some comfort. Again I stubbornly attempted to pull it off, focusing only on the thought that I didn't need it, didn't deserve it, wanted no part of it. But it responded only by clinging all the more tightly.

At last I gave up. It would have to remain where it was for now. But the moment I felt it loosen, I intended to be rid of it. I had abused the power of the Force often enough; who was to say I wouldn't eventually abuse the power of the ring?

_Break…_

It was with great difficulty that we decided on what supplies would be necessary for our journey. We couldn't take the shuttle with us; it was too conspicuous. But no other transport was available either. There were no speeders aboard the shuttle, for it's intended journey had simply been to and from the Death Star, where no speeders were needed. That meant we would be traveling on foot, carrying all needed items on our backs.

Rations for Luke (neither Jessa nor I needed food), a medkit, an emergency shelter which would double as a private area where I could tend to my daily needs, sleeping pallets, a recharger unit for Jessa's droid body and my cybernetic components, and my medical supplies – which made up the bulk of our load – were musts. We could leave the cooking reactor and heating units behind and depend on fire, but that did little to lighten the burden. In the end, all we could do was divide the load three ways and trust that we could carry it the entire way.

I shouldered my share of the baggage, silently cursing the mask. If I had never been such a fool to trust my master… It had been through his treachery that I had gone to Mustafar, engaged Kenobi in battle, and been crippled during the battle. I was broken, ruined, scarred, hardly a man anymore. Even the life-support machinery contained in my armor could not fully compensate. I was in constant pain, and every movement, every breath, only intensified it.

The only place where I could breathe freely was my private chamber on the now-demolished _Executor, _which was kept constantly sterile and the air purified and enriched. In there I could pretend, for a short time, that I was normal, that I didn't need a machine to exist. Outside the chamber, only the mask could allow me to breathe, and even then every movement of my lungs was painful.

I glanced at the ring, which had faded from gold to ivory again. If it supposedly had healing powers, why had it not also healed my lungs as well as my arm? What was it waiting for?

Jessa paused in the act of strapping her pack on. She cocked her head to one side, almost animal-like, listening.

"What is it?" asked Luke.

"I thought I heard… wait here." She let her load slide to the ground and melted into the forest, her every move oddly graceful.

Minutes passed. I was about to send Luke in after her when a hideous scream filled the air. I froze, recognizing that sound. I had heard it once before, on Geonosis…

"Everyone drop your stuff!" Jessa shouted, bursting from the trees. "I found transportation!"

"A speeder?" asked Luke.

"Naw, the original transport!" she told him. "You know, a pack animal! I'm gonna need help calming him down though… oh, shuddup!" she shouted as the creature screamed again.

Had the situation been any different, I would have said no at once. But the ring had other ideas, and it pulsed urgently, compelling me to have another look.

"Let's see this pack animal," I demanded, striding in the direction of the racket.

"Oh trust me, you'll like him," she gushed, loping to meet my pace, her eyes glinting like a child begging her mother to let her keep some new pet in her room.


	5. Tale of the Beast

**Chapter IV – Tale of the Beast**

"You've got to be joking!" Luke exclaimed.

A sentiment I echoed exactly.

"Oh, c'mon, he's just a baby," Jessa protested. "And he's kinda cute…"

"Cute?" Luke repeated in disbelief.

There before us, tangled thoroughly in the undergrowth, was a very young acklay, eyes bright with panic and shrieking hoarsely. Jessa had been right – it couldn't have been more than a few months old, seeing as its shoulder barely reached my chest. Its hide showed a fiery red under the layer of dust and grime, the brilliant red of a setting sun. And it was obviously not going anywhere anytime soon, for its legs, claws, and the remains of a broken halter were snarled hopelessly in the bramble and vines.

"Right, now approach it slowly," advised Jessa. "Speak softly to it, it's pretty frightened."

"How can you be sure it will understand me?" I asked doubtfully.

She slammed a hand against her forehead. "Good gravy, didn't I just get through telling you? The ring! It'll understand you, trust me…"

I remembered her telling me the ring would enable me to communicate with animals, but it was one thing to trust in a theory, another to put it into practice. All the same, I stepped cautiously forward, ready to dodge if it took a slash at me.

"Easy now…" I told it hesitantly.

"Go away! Go away! Go away!" The creature did not speak Basic, of course, but the meaning of its cries was clear in my mind anyhow. "I'll cut you to pieces!"

"I'm not here to hurt you."

The terrified acklay stared at me with tiny, squinted eyes, belly heaving as it panted for breath, limbs twitching. "I can understand you. You're not like the others."

"I wear the unicorn ring." I lifted my hand to show it. "We can understand each other as long as I wear it."

The beast leaned forward as far as its bonds would allow and sniffed experimentally at my offered hand. "Never heard of a unicorn ring…" But I sensed some of its fear ebbing. "Doesn't smell like anything I recognize… can they talk to me too?"

"The others? I'm afraid not. But they are my friends, and they will do you no harm."

The acklay sighed. "Been here for days. Hungry. Want to go home…"

"Does it agree to help?" asked Jessa.

"I have not asked yet," I replied. "Luke, we need a knife or some other blade from the packs. We have to cut it loose."

Much later, when the relieved creature finally stepped free of the confining undergrowth, I explained to it what we needed. It considered a few moments, then nodded its crested head.

"You helped me. I'll help you. Only fair. I'm very strong, I can carry your supplies." It lifted a hind claw to scratch at its shoulder. "Been a long time since I had a good master."

"It agrees," I told the others.

"What'd I tell you?" Jessa said triumphantly. "Um, is it a boy or a girl? Kind of hard to tell with them, isn't it?"

"I'm male," the beast replied on request. "Females gray or brown, males red or orange or black, hatchlings yellow-white until one month. Not hard."

"This feels kind of strange," Luke admitted as we strapped our baggage to the acklay's back. "I mean, you never think about animals being able to talk, or being able to understand them…"

"It makes sense," I replied. "All creatures have some sort of intelligence. It's only logical that they have some means of communicating with one another."

At last we set off. Using the remains of the acklay's halter, Jessa had cobbled together a sort of collar that fitted around the creature's neck, and Luke used this to lead him.

"So where does he come from?" asked Luke. "Does he have a name? And who was his master, and what happened to them?"

I posed the questions to the acklay, who was delighted to be consulted.

"All acklays have names," he assured me. "Don't think you can pronounce them, though. Mine is…" And he made an eerie, keening howl of sound that sent shivers down my spine.

"Sounds like the wind at a window late at night," Jessa noted.

"Then for the moment, we will call you Nightwind," I told him.

"Nightwind. Okay by me. Gone by lots of names, but Nightwind's the best. Better than Red or Killer or Spike… I'm hungry."

Despite being able to communicate with us – or at least with me – he still thought like a creature. And like most creatures, he lived for the moment, eating when hungry, sleeping when tired, fighting or fleeing when confronted with a danger. The past was valuable for its accumulated experience, but hardly worth grousing over as most humans did. And while we might find his back-story interesting, he obviously didn't think it more important than the pressing need to fill his stomach.

"Didn't think about feeding it when you convinced us to take it along, did you?" Luke told Jessa in a teasing tone.

I don't know how a droid's face can look sheepish, but she managed it.

"I can hunt," Nightwind chimed in. "Old enough. Can't catch big things yet, but I can feed myself anyhow. Take off the packs, and I'll be back soon. Never takes long."

He was right; he had only been gone fifteen minutes or so before he was back, licking his fangs and lowering his head to accept the collar again.

"Good hunting…" he remarked with a gusty belch. "Anyway, story. Hatched on world far away from here. Dark and cool, lots to eat, brothers and sisters to play with. Don't remember much else. The hunters came, killed our mother and father, and took us away. Spent days on their ship, crammed in cages. No food, no water, stank, lights too bright… nearly died…

"They sold us to different masters. One man bought five of us, and he tried to teach us tricks. Was a cruel man, he beat us. Our sister finally had enough, and she tried to kill him… he beat her in the head with a shovel. She never was right after that…

"Man who worked for our master felt sorry for us, and he tried to buy us. Didn't have enough money, so stole Sister and a brother and me and ran away. He was kind. Always fed us enough, never hit us or used shock poles. Did tricks for him because we liked him, not because we were afraid of him. He helped us, so we helped him.

"Then more men came, men wearing white armor. Told our master he couldn't keep us, because he didn't have something called a 'lye-sense.' I don't know what that means, but somehow we knew we would be taken away from him. Didn't want that. Brother thought if we killed the men in white, we could stay with him. He attacked them… they shot him.

"Sister and I were taken away and sold to a circus, where we did tricks for food. Didn't feed us if we didn't do a good show. We were always traveling, and always hungry because they didn't feed us enough, even when we did do tricks for them. Sister got sick, and the owner of the circus decided we weren't worth keeping anymore. Decided to sell us to a zoo.

"Never got there. The ship crashed. Our master died. Sister was hurt badly. I left the ship to hunt, thinking she would get better if I got her some food. Never made it back, I got stuck…" He whimpered sadly. "Sister's dead now. Can't have survived this long."

I relayed the story to the others. Luke reached over and placed a sympathetic hand on Nightwind's shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he told him. "I wish there was something we could do to help."

Nightwind understood the gist of it, and he butted Luke affectionately.

"Tell human boy…"

"His name is Luke," I told him.

"Tell Luke thank you. He's a nice man. Like my second master. Can I stay with him?"

"I don't know if you'll be welcome where we're going," Luke said hesitantly. "We'll probably be imposing on Wedge's friends as it is…"

"Oh well. Won't stay with you, then. I'll find a new master, one that will take good care of me. Must be at least one wherever we're going."

Like Jessa, Nightwind had an unflagging optimism I had to admire. He seemed absolutely sure that someone at our destination would be willing and able to take on and raise a half-grown acklay. I could only pray that his hopes would not be dashed.

_Break…_

Over the next few days, I learned much about my three companions.

A new facet of Jessa's personality surfaced early, when about an hour into our journey she suddenly asked, "Anyone mind a song for the road?"

"Not at all," Luke replied.

"Right." She cleared her throat and began a lively tune, one that I was totally unfamiliar with but enjoyed nonetheless. I wondered if her counterpart had been musically inclined… then again, with his internal organs frequently exposed as they were, I doubted his lungs would have been healthy enough to attempt it.

"What song is that?" Luke inquired once she had finished.

"'Ghost Riders In the Sky,' classic western tune," she replied. "I loved that song, but the choir director made me learn the alto part because we had too many sopranos. I have a fairly broad vocal range, so I can sing either soprano or alto, though I prefer soprano. Care for another one?"

Music was not my field of expertise, but I did appreciate her serenading our journey from that point forward. It made every kilometer less tedious.

Personality-wise, Nightwind was a fairly simple creature, though only time would tell whether that was due to his species' nature or his young age. All that concerned him were his stomach and the needs and temperament of his current master. The complexity lay in his means of communication, which I understood instantly thanks to the ring, but which might as well have been Binary to Luke and Jessa. I wondered if, with time and training, they might also be able to understand him.

I suppose I should explain the animal concept of "speech." Only about ten percent of their communication is through sound – the rest is conveyed through posture, body language, scent (which is beyond most humans given their inferior olfactory sense), and thoughts. Strange how sentient creatures think of telepathy as a supernatural talent, yet animals think it no more odd than communicating through a growl or tilt of the head.

It certainly makes one wonder which species is the higher, and which the lower.

But it was Luke who I wanted to learn the most about, and Luke who commanded most of my attention, attention that neither Jessa nor Nightwind begrudged in the least.

Though I was reluctant to divulge details of my past to my son, I listened intently as he talked about his own life and answered my questions. We had twenty years to make up for, after all, and I wanted to know everything I could. I knew we couldn't run forever – sooner or later someone would turn us in, and I would most likely pay for my crimes with my life. I wanted to die with closure, with fond memories of Luke to cling to.

I learned I had a son who loved flying as much as I did when I was a youth, a son who had lived as a moisture farmer on Tatooine with his aunt and uncle. I learned of his escapades with his friends, first in the backwater farm community of Anchorhead, then later among the scamps and rascals that made up Rogue Squadron. I learned of his desire to become a Jedi Knight like his father, to help restore justice to the galaxy. And most of all, I learned of his lifelong desire to know a father, to have some sort of patriarchal figure to guide his way. Obi-wan and Yoda had done well in that respect, but he still thirsted for memories of his own father.

In return for telling his story, however, Luke wanted information about my own life. He wanted to know about his mother, about my childhood, why I had turned to evil, what had damaged me so badly that I now had to rely on machinery to exist. I didn't want to think about the past; it was so painful to remember everything…

"Father, I have to know," he pressed. "It's part of my life too."

In the end, I conceded, and to say Luke was stunned to hear the highly ironic tale of how I had joined the dark side to save his mother's life, only to kill her in a fit of rage in the end, would be an understatement. The anger on his face cut me deeply, and I feared that I had just alienated him forever through revealing my dark and twisted past.

But his reply shocked me. "Why couldn't the Jedi help you save her? I thought they were stronger than the Sith. If you had told them about your visions, couldn't they have done something to save her life?"

"Luke, you don't understand. Marriage is forbidden in the Jedi Order. If I had admitted to marrying Padme and fathering children, I would have been punished, perhaps expelled…"

"Wait a minute," he interrupted, glaring at me. "The Jedi don't allow marriage?"

"'A Jedi shall not know discouragement, nor despair, nor love,'" I quoted. "Did not Yoda and Obi-wan tell you of that?"

"No," he replied in a resentful voice. "Apparently they forgot to mention that little detail." The tone of his voice suggested that he hardly thought it a trivial detail.

"The Jedi thought of love as a liability," I told him, unable to keep my own resentment out of my reply. "Any relationship aside from a Master-Padawan bond was discouraged."

His gaze remained fixed on the path ahead, but his blue eyes were hard. "I wanted to be a Jedi like my father," he said quietly. "But now that I know that they hold love and friendship in such low regard… I'm not sure I want to be one anymore."

"Luke, do not blame the Jedi for my fall," I encouraged. "I have no one to blame for my actions but myself. And do not hate Obi-wan and Yoda for failing to tell you about the Code. They acted with the best of intentions."

Luke gave a sharp nod in reply, but his face remained fixed in a bitter look.

"It must be your decision to follow the Jedi path… or abandon it," I told him. "No one can choose for you."

At that moment, daylight broke upon us as we emerged from the forest. Our path led us to the crest of a great hill overlooking a village, a village about the size of Mos Eisley but with less of a frontier-town feel to it. The surrounding land had been carved out into neat squares of farmland, each square a slightly different shade of green to indicate a different crop grew there. Everything seemed neat and quiet… too quiet.

Nightwind hissed. "Too bright, hurts my eyes…"

"Something's not right," Luke said warily.

I agreed – and so did the ring, which prickled ominously.

"I'll have a look," volunteered Jessa. "If I'm not back in two hours, go on without me."

"We'll come looking for you," Luke promised. "We're not leaving you behind."

She rolled her eyes. "Stubborn Skywalkers," she muttered, and she broke into a panther-like lope as she descended into the valley.

Luke led Nightwind slightly into the forest, where the acklay's sensitive eyes would not be so irritated, to await her return. "Do you think they had to evacuate the town for some reason?"

"More likely the citizens are barricading themselves in their homes," I replied. "These are unstable times. The Empire is dissolving, and the 'criminal Rebellion' they've been warned about for so long is taking over. Naturally they would be wary."

It took an hour and a half for Jessa to return, panting somewhat but not coughing. There was a strange look in her eyes, a troubled expression that confirmed our fears.

"It's safe to go down if you want," she reported. "But there's not much to see."

"What happened?" Luke asked. "Is anyone hurt? Is there something we can do?"

Her gaze dropped as she considered her next words. Involuntarily I followed her gaze, and I saw something that made my stomach turn – her feet were covered in blood.

"Someone attacked and looted the village," she replied. "Whoever it was, they're gone now. Everyone's dead. Everyone."


	6. The Wounded Hunter

**Chapter V – The Wounded Hunter**

How many times had I led soldiers into conflict, knowing full well our only purpose would be to kill or perish, be the destroyers or the slain? How many battles had I witnessed firsthand, how many fallen men pierced by blaster fire or lightsabers, crushed by war machinery, or incinerated by mines and detonators? How often had I seen blood, carnage, bodies violated by the obscenity of murder, the gruesome aftermath of war? I couldn't count any of the above – I had seen a vast amount of death in my lifetime, even dealt it by my own hands. One might think I had become jaded to it, desensitized…

But somehow this was different. Why it was I could not fathom, but somehow the village we entered disturbed me, even though I had seen similar images a thousand times before.

The four of us stood at the head of the village's main street, as silent as if we had been gagged. All was still, and a grim weight seemed to hang in the air as if to crush the life from us. Every building was dark and abandoned, their doors gaping open like startled mouths. And the people… they were strewn through the street like as haphazardly as fallen leaves, some bearing the charred wounds of blasters, others stained scarlet from wounds inflicted by crueler weapons – vibroblades, force pikes, even clubs.

"What happened here?" Luke finally asked, his words sounding strangely frail in the heavy air.

"Empire," Jessa said bleakly. "Sure of it. Some poor guy managed to take out a few troopers at the speeder garage before…" She didn't finish, almost as if by not saying what had happened she could undo it.

"But why?" Luke demanded. "Why would they want to wipe out this place? It's not any military threat, and they haven't been involved with the Rebellion at all…"

"Unless they learned we were coming," I suggested, but the moment the words left my mouth I realized they couldn't be true. We had not contacted the village before coming, Jessa hadn't the means to betray us to the Empire, and the notion that Nightwind could do the same was ridiculous. The only reasonable explanation could be that the Imperials stationed on Corellia, realizing it was only a matter of time before the Rebellion routed them from the planet, had plundered the village for anything valuable before fleeing. One could only guess just how many other towns, cities, and settlements had met a similar fate.

I finally roused myself to activity, gesturing for the others to follow. "Search for survivors," I ordered, taking Nightwind's lead rope.

No one spoke as we wandered through the village, searching for any signs of life. I rather doubted that we would find anyone living, but some remaining fragment of decency would not let my mind rest until we had ascertained whether anyone had escaped the massacre.

Besides, the ring would not be still. It pulsed and burned, glowing with the same energy it had exhibited when we had encountered Jessa and Nightwind.

I forced my gaze away from the corpse of a child no older than ten, lying facedown in a pool of blood, his throat slit. I would not permit myself to think about other children, ones slain in a similar butcher, ones who died not by the gun or by the blade, but by the saber…

A tug at the lead. Nightwind had stopped to investigate the body of a middle-aged woman who had been shot in the head.

"Can I eat it?"

My gorge rose. "No."

"It's just going to go to waste…"

"No." Had my stomach been in proper working order I might have vomited at the thought. "If we find a dead animal, yes, but not a human."

"What about that?" he asked, reaching forward with a spike-like leg to nudge the corpse of a Rodian.

"No. I will tell you what's acceptable to eat." The last thing we needed was for the acklay to develop a taste for the flesh of any sentient creature.

He gave a hefty sigh through half-parted teeth. "Humans are strange."

I supposed, to Nightwind, our ways were bizarre. To us, there was something horrifying about the corpse of another human being devoured. But to an animal, a dead body only represented food, something to be consumed and converted to energy before it rotted.

The creature's next words startled me. "Humans fight and kill for no reason. Acklays kill to eat. Fight each other to lead the pack or to mate. But humans kill for sport, for fun, and they fight and kill each other for no reason. Very strange."

I could only stare at him. How could such a simple creature speak such a deep truth?

When I encountered Luke again, he was kneeling by the bodies of a man, a woman, and a child barely old enough to walk, checking for signs of life. The man had been shot several times in the back, the child twice in the chest. It was the woman who had suffered the worst abuse – her bruised skin and torn clothing were brutal evidence of how the Imperials had used her before stabbing her to death. Bloody footprints patterned the ground around them, some the bootprints of stormtroopers, others Jessa's clawed prints from her earlier examination of the village.

Luke's face was a mask of shock and pain as he looked up. "They were… they would have helped us…"

I knelt and touched two fingers of my left hand to the man's neck. Even through the glove I should have been able to detect a pulse, but there was nothing there. As if to confirm his death, the ring grew cold on my hand.

"Please believe me, son," I told him. "I never condoned such actions as this when I served the Empire."

Luke reached over and adjusted the shredded ruins of the woman's blouse to restore her modesty. "There was a time when I would have thought you capable of anything. But now… now I can't believe my father could do this."

I closed my eyes against the pain. I already had committed such crimes, and hundreds of times over. Children had died at my hands, cities had been leveled at my command, entire worlds had lived in the grip of terror thanks to my actions…

The ring stabbed a warning. We could not stay. There was nothing for us here. No one had survived, and the Imperials had stolen everything that hadn't been bolted down. We couldn't even linger to bury the bodies – someone here might have sent a distress signal to the Alliance, and any moment now their forces might show up.

To reinforce the ring's alert, Nightwind lifted his muzzle high, tasting the air. "Someone comes. Humans, a pack of them."

"We must go," I told Luke, rising to my feet. "Rebel troops are on their way."

"Find Jessa," Luke ordered, standing. "We don't leave anyone behind…"

Like a character in a play running onstage on a predetermine cue, Jessa bolted from the doors of a small medical center and skidded to a halt beside us.

"Someone's alive in there!" she cried. "He's pretty badly hurt, though. I need someone to help me haul him out…"

"The Alliance is coming," Luke told her. "We have to leave now."

"Then we'll hurry. Get this guy and your dad away before the Rebels show up. There's a few stretchers left in the med center that the Imps didn't filch. If we can get him on one, Nightwind can carry…"

"We don't have time! The Alliance can help him…"

"No they won't."

"Of course they will."

"Not this guy?"

"Why, what's wrong with him?"

"Is the injured man an Imperial?" I asked.

"Nope, worse," she replied. "He's Boba Fett."

Boba Fett? What in the galaxy was Boba Fett doing here? And how had he gotten mixed up in all this anyhow?

The ring stabbed again, and this time the Force joined it in its warning. The troops were drawing nearer. Our time was short; we had to leave now. But even as it urged us on our way, the ring was burning with another warning – that Fett was badly wounded, in need of our assistance, and somehow we needed him as much as we needed Jessa and Nightwind.

"Stay with Nightwind," I told Luke, handing him the acklay's lead. "Jessa, lead me to Fett."

_Break…_

From the hills overlooking the village I could see, by light of a full moon, Alliance soldiers moving among the buildings, carrying bodies out of the streets, cleaning up after the Empire. Had I still possessed control of my lungs, I would have breathed a sigh of relief. We had vacated just in time.

I moved back into the forest. My concern was not for my safety – had I been alone, I probably would have turned myself in to atone for my crimes. But I could not, would not let Luke suffer for my sins. If he returned to the Alliance or was found by their troops, he faced charges for desertion and possibly treason. And if they learned his true lineage… there would be no telling their reaction if they discovered their greatest hero was Darth Vader's seed.

Back at our campsite, Fett lay strapped to a stretcher near the fire, still unconscious. Luke and Jessa had pulled him down from Nightwind's back and were busy unfastening the straps. As they peeled back the bindings, I could see dark, dried blood staining his clothing.

"What happened to him?" asked Luke.

"I found him under a flipped bed," Jessa replied. "Some of his injuries are from the attack, I guess, but it looks like he was hurt before."

"Maybe we should have a look," Luke suggested.

I knelt by the hunter's side and carefully removed his helmet, revealing a dark, scarred face blotched with horrible oozing sores.

"Oh, disgusting," groaned Nightwind.

"Nasty," Jessa winced. "Is he sick? And is it contagious?"

"The Pit of Carkoon," Luke replied, a light of understanding igniting in his eyes as he took the helmet from me. "During our rescue of Han, Fett fell into the Pit of Carkoon and was swallowed by the sarlaac. I don't know how he survived, but the sores must be from the sarlaac's stomach acids."

I began loosening and removing other pieces of Fett's armor now, exposing more weeping ulcers where skin and flesh had been eaten away. In some instances when I pulled his clothing back, the skin stuck to the fabric and peeled away with it. And as if the acid-induced injuries weren't enough, the flesh of his shoulder was black and crusted from a blaster shot, and blood still seeped from a shallow but long gash over his ribs.

"By the stars," I murmured. "How did he survive this long?"

"Jessa, stop staring," advised Luke.

"Nothing wrong with looking, is there?" she demanded. "Besides, if you ignore the sores he's pretty handsome, and he's got nice abs…"

"Jessa," I said warningly.

"All right, all right, don't get so touchy," she complained, slinking off behind our supply pile.

"I'll get a medpack," Luke offered.

"He needs a bacta tank," I replied. "There are too many wounds for a simple medpack to handle."

Luke considered, absently drumming his fingers on Fett's helmet. "What about the ring? Jessa said it had healing powers…"

"The ring is stuck on my hand," I reminded him. "I cannot remove it. And even if I could, how could we be certain Fett is worthy to wear it?"

"Then try just touching it to his injuries. See what happens."

I was skeptical, but all the same I touched the burn on his shoulder with my left hand, ensuring the ring made contact with the wound.

Gold and silver stars danced across my vision, and a burst of power flashed down my arm like an electric shock. I drew my hand back sharply, only to find the ring glowing weirdly. Within seconds the glow faded, though the ring remained warm. The flesh of Fett's shoulder, meanwhile, had been rejuvenated, dark unbroken skin replacing the charred tissues. Emboldened by this success, I next placed the ring against the gash over his ribs. The wound's edges drew together upon the contact. Over and over I touched the ring to his injuries until it shone like a nova and my vision was stained gold by the power I wielded.

At last I drew my hand away, exhausted, blinking furiously to clear the yellow film from my sight. The ring cooled and faded back to a nondescript ivory, though my arm still tingled from utilizing the power. As for Fett – his surface wounds had been healed, at least. If the acid had caused deeper injuries, I could not repair them yet.

Luke pulled a blanket over the hunter's body. "You can come out now, Jessa."

"You're all a bunch of prudes," she snorted, coming into view. "Gonna wake him up?"

I placed a hand – my right hand this time – on Fett's forehead, more as a focusing gesture than as an actual transfer of power through the limb. Through the Force I entered his dormant mind and drew him gently to consciousness. His features trembled in a slight grimace, and with a deep-throated groan he opened his eyes.

"The helmet…" he rasped.

"We had to remove it," Luke explained. "You had some pretty bad injuries…"

"Put it back on," he demanded, his voice hard even though it was rough with lingering pain. There was a note of desperation there, as if the helmet were vital to his survival.

Jessa moved swiftly, plucking the helmet from Luke's hands and sliding it over Fett's head. "There you go."

He released his breath in a deep sigh, then rolled his head to first one side, then the other. After taking in his surroundings, he leaned back with another groan. "Luke Skywalker and Darth Vader… the galaxy's most wanted men…" He laughed humorlessly. "Ten million credits sitting a meter away and I'm too crippled to bag the catch."

"Looks like we've got another tagalong," Jessa noted.

"C'mon, Jessa, he's in no shape to travel with us…" Luke began.

"Where else can he go?" I countered. "He has worked for the Empire for years. How do you think the Rebellion will treat him if they find him?" Then I caught myself. Why was I defending a bounty hunter, a member of one of the lowest of professions, a man who had slaughtered almost as many as I had?

The ring seemed to chuckle as if enjoying some private joke. Stars, how many strays was the mysterious chunk of horn going to saddle us with? First Jessa, then Nightwind, now Fett…

But how could we have not helped any of them? Jessa had been alone and friendless, wandering the cosmos as a hunted creature, wanting only to be restored to a body and returned to her homeworld. Nightwind had been a trapped orphan cub, despairing over the deaths of his parents and nestmates, longing for a master who would treat him with kindness. And Fett had been cruelly injured, close to death, and in desperate need of our aid. How could I have left any behind? Which was strange – a few weeks ago I would not have cared whether my own soldiers and officers lived or died. Yet somehow this ever-growing clutch of misfits had stirred my compassion for the first time in years.

Fett spoke up at last. "Take me to a decent but obscure med center and leave me. I have the money to pay for my treatment." He attempted to sit up, groaned again, and fell down.

"What's wrong with the masked one?" asked Nightwind. "Bad food? Bad meat causes stomach troubles…"

"Nothing he ate," I told him. "I suspect the sarlaac's stomach acids have caused some internal damage, perhaps even the beginning stages of some kind of cancer…"

"Who are you talking to?" Fett demanded.

Luke gave me a look that plainly said that, if Fett was going to be traveling with us, we would have to explain the ring. With some misgivings I related what Jessa had told me about the artifact, then paused to hear his reaction.

It was as I had expected – he did not believe a word of it. "You lie badly, Lord Vader."

"He's telling the truth," Luke replied. "He healed your wounds."

Fett gave another mirthless laugh. "Some healing."

"Even the ring has its limits," I told him, though I had to wonder. It had completely healed my arm; why did it not completely restore Fett to health? Then again, it hadn't completely restored my body either…

"The ring also has a mind of its own," Jessa pointed out. "It may have its reasons for not healing you fully."

"A ring that attaches itself to the bearer and gives him supernatural powers?" The hunter was oddly chatty tonight – pain did have an odd way of loosening its victim's tongues. "You are either mad or trying to delude me." He glared at Nightwind. "And how can a beast talk? It's a mindless, soulless killing machine, yet you all seem to treat it like an equal."

Nightwind looked up from gnawing a parasite of some kind from his carapace. "Tell the masked one that I don't give an orray's bob-tailed rump if he thinks I'm intelligent or not, but if he wants proof that you can talk to me, put me to the test."

I blinked, surprised. That was the longest and most complex sentence the acklay had managed to put together. I had to wonder how long it took his kind to reach full maturity.

"What'd he say?" Jessa asked.

"That he is willing for Fett to put him to the test," I translated. "Give him a task to peform."

"Right," Fett said confidently. "Tell it to look through my armor and fetch my jet pack, then set it in the crotch of that tree just at the edge of camp…" His voice quickly trailed off as, even before he could complete the sentence, Nightwind plucked the device from the pile, scuttled across the clearing, and set it gently within the cradling branches of the correct tree.

"Well," he acknowledged at length, "you have some kind of control over him. Though it could be the Force…" He groaned again.

"What were you doing on Corellia anyhow?" asked Luke.

I had never known Fett to be this talkative or open to anyone, but pain does strange things to one's mind. He confided in us that, after being knocked into the Pit of Carkoon by Han Solo, he had spent days in the beast's gut, acid leaking though his armor and searing his skin, wracked in both physical agony and mental torture as the sarlaac delved into his mind, seeking some perverse kind of entertainment. It had taken a great effort to finally kill the monster and claw his way up its gullet, upon which exhaustion and pain had taken their toll.

When he awoke, it was to find a somewhat lesser bounty hunter taking him to the out-of-the-way but fairly competent medical center of the village we had just vacated. It had been this novice hunter's hope that, in return for helping Fett recover, the elder hunter would take the younger under his wing as a protégé. That would never happen – the Empire had stormed the village, wounding Fett even more grievously before he could kill his attackers and crawl under an overturned bed to wait out the siege. Somewhere along the line, he had passed out again.

"I'll give you all a trial run," he said abruptly. "If this ring of yours is so powerful, may it lead me to a medical center and a complete cure."

"Very well," I replied. "You may join us."

The ring throbbed approval. I clenched my left fist. Why was the ring taking control of our lives? What destiny was it leading us to, and why?

_Break…_

…a witch screaming in rage and agony, her clothes and hair aflame, her body wracked with fatal pain even as she swooped down to deal death to her victims…

_…I can see by your expressions that you have no real idea of what I mean when I say 'perils and dangers:' believe me, your imaginations cannot encompass the terrors you might have to face…_

…a frightened but resolute maiden, tan and toughened by a thousand-mile journey, standing before a great council of dragons and bargaining for her love…

_…when your new Master Dragon was in his first incarnation, I saved his life; I ask you now for the price of that life. Let him spend his man-life time with me…_

…more images, more phrases, more faces… would these fragments of another's past never cease to torment me? I saw a black dragon, a blue dragon, a unicorn with a shattered horn, a wounded bird, a blinded warrior… I saw wizards, witches, castles, unimaginable beasts… oceans, rivers, flames, deserts, mountains…

_Enough!_

It was as if an invisible hand had swept aside the jumbled dream-pieces like an incomplete jigsaw puzzle. The chaos parted, and now all I saw was a figure in flowing silver, robes caught and flung about like banners in the wind, a slender hand extended toward me. She spoke but one word:

_Come._

I wanted to scream. Come where? Where was she? Who was she? What did she possess that I so desperately needed? The ring… even in my sleep it burned as if trying to sear through the glove and fuse itself to my flesh…

_You have completed the prophecy, my young one, but your journey has only begun. Find the other two, and then you will find me. Hurry, for all your fates depend on it._

I awoke with a start. Had it all been a dream?

_Break…_

Fett insisted on walking along with everyone else, though every half hour he was forced to sit and regain his strength. He was in poor health indeed. Even if we found the most state-of-the-art medical center – and if they would admit him – I highly doubted he would ever again be completely healthy. At the very best, he would be able to live a comfortable, if less active life – and certainly not the life of a bounty hunter.

The visions still tumbled around in my mind, unwilling to rest. At last I confided in Luke and Jessa, Luke because I felt I could trust him with anything, Jessa because if these visions stemmed from the ring, she might know something about them.

"I don't know anything about someone in robes," she replied. "As for the rest… she said two more." She tapped the bottom of her faceplate with a clawed finger. "Seven is a powerfully magic number in most mythology. And in all the books, the wearer of the ring traveled in a group of seven. She must have been referring to the two other members of our group, wherever they may be."

"So I was the first," I realized. "Luke was the second, you the first, Nightwind the fourth, and Fett the fifth."

"The question is who the sixth and seventh are, and where we can find them," Luke mused.

Before anything else could be said, two things interrupted our conversation – the ring's knifelike pain and Nightwind's scream.

"Smell something!"

"What is it?" I asked.

"Blood, smoke, ozone!" His head swung wildly from side to side with terror, making Fett pull his blaster for fear the beast would break his lead and charge. "Humans, fighting, burned flesh, churned-up earth, sweat, fear, death…"

"Ensign Expendable to the rescue," Jessa piped up, and before we could stop her she had sidled up the nearest tree for a look at what lay ahead.

We didn't have long to wait. Her head poked out of the foliage like a weirdly shaped fruit.

"Big rumble up ahead. Imperial troops and civilians from the look of it. Not safe to go on in this direction, we'd better turn around."

"Are you sure it's not Rebels?" asked Luke.

"Positive. Maybe getting a little payback for yesterday's slaughter… look out!"

A white-armored form crashed through the undergrowth, one hand waving a pistol with reckless abandon, the other hand clutching a deep wound in the stomach. The stormtrooper fell to his knees at my feet, moaning in agony.

The ring stabbed again, but this time it was no warning.

This was the sixth.


	7. The Sixth and Seventh

**Chapter VI – The Sixth and Seventh**

"I am deeply indebted to you, my lord," the stormtrooper told me as he lowered himself onto a rock beside the fire. "If it hadn't been for you, I surely would have died."

"No great loss," muttered Fett.

"Shut up, Uncle Fettster," Jessa snapped.

We were now some distance from the battle site where we had acquired our sixth traveling companion, taking a much-needed respite from our flight. We kept the fire low in case of pursuit, though common sense told us that a single stormtrooper would not be missed in the bedlam. I had taken advantage of our moment of rest to retire to the shelter and tend to my medical needs, while Nightwind hunted for his sustenance and Luke, Fett, and our newest partner ate a quick, frugal meal. Jessa, meanwhile, recharged her droid body – her organic components were sustained by a nutrient tank in her torso, which only needed refilled every six months or so.

"Probably need another pit stop in a few weeks," she explained. "I used to filch from med centers, but you won't mind if I use some of yours, will you?"

"Of course not." Having another cyborg in our party at least meant that I was by no means the odd one out. It was strangely comforting to know that I was not the only half-machine present, not the only one in need of medical equipment and nutrient fluids.

Again I studied our most recent tagalong, making special note of his Force signature. When Luke and I had flung his bleeding, semiconscious body over Nightwind's shoulders and fled, we hadn't paused to notice anything significant about him. He had just been another clone soldier, albeit an injured one. But when I had touched him with the ring to heal his wound, I had been profoundly struck by one thing.

He was Force-sensitive.

The trooper set his ration tray aside. "What will happen to me now?" he inquired, giving me an expectant look, like a child knowing a punishment is in store but determined to face it.

"What do you mean?" asked Luke.

"I'm your prisoner," he explained. "It's common knowledge among the Empire that Vader has turned his allegiances. I owe you my life, Lord Vader, but I cannot join the Rebellion…"

"I am not a Rebel," I replied.

"You killed the Emperor," he pointed out. "Does that not make you an ally of the Rebellion?"

"They will not accept me among their numbers. Hatred runs too deeply, and for good reason. Yes, I killed the Emperor, but I did it to save my son, not to join the Alliance." I raised my left hand to show him the ring, which now shimmered a brilliant gold. "As for what will happen to you now, you will travel with us – not as a prisoner, but as an equal. The six of us are bound by the power of the unicorn ring. I do not know where our journey will lead us, but we will travel as friends and partners until we reach our ultimate destination."

He nodded understandingly – it seemed his greatest attribute was acceptance. "There's a story behind all this, I'm sure."

I started from the finding of the ring and told him the history of our travels over the past two weeks, introducing the others by name when appropriate. I glossed over the visions and the mysterious silver-robed woman, and for an explanation of the ring's power I deffered to Jessa. The stormtrooper listened attentively, a rapt expression on his face.

"I must believe you," he said at length. "I can't imagine why you'd concoct such an elaborate story to delude an inconsequential trooper. Not to mention that you've already demonstrated the ring's power." He brushed his fingers over his blackened stomach plate. "So I was chosen by the ring to accompany you. Strange."

"If he tells us his story, maybe we'll know why he was chosen," Nightwind suggested, looking up from picking his teeth with a foreclaw.

"Perhaps if you told us about yourself…" I prompted the trooper.

He sighed and stared into the fire. "Very well. My number is TK-259…"

"We can't call you by a number," Luke protested. "Don't you have a name?"

"No name," he replied. "Never had one. It's perfectly normal to us. But if you want to give me a name, I won't object, I suppose. Just don't expect me to answer to it right away."

"Call him Tuck," Jessa suggested. "It's close enough to TK, isn't it?"

He mulled that over. "Tuck. Not bad. Simple, yet catchy. I like it." He nodded. "Okay, you may call me Tuck. Now for my history, for what it's worth.

"I was 'born,' if you can call it that, in the cloning facilities on Kamino. I grew up on Tipoca City, studying weaponry and battle tactics like all other clones there. We were all destined to be stormtroopers – there was no choice in the matter, no other options. I don't think any of us cared, though, for how could we resent our fates if we didn't even know there were other options?

"It was a hard life, but one grew accustomed. Our minds and bodies were kept hard and sharp, ever ready for battle. We never questioned, we only acted. Our lives belonged to those who commanded us. We weren't individuals, but units in a whole. Individuality was discouraged – to most of us, anything that made us stand out was a flaw, a defect that kept us from fitting into the whole."

He lifted his helmet and stared into the lenses, brooding. "Maybe that's why I always felt inferior. Because I knew, on some deep level, that I was different. I had a talent, a quirk, that no other clone possessed. I was a Finder.

"When I was young, I thought everyone could do it, so it wasn't much more than a harmless pastime. If someone mislaid a datapad, I knew where to find it. If an instructor wanted to know who had pulled a particular prank, I knew who it was. I could find things – objects, people, information. But how was I supposed to know it was a talent unique to me? I thought every clone could do it.

"My first assignment was aboard the first Death Star as a security officer. The station was almost complete at the time, and Grand Moff Tarkin was present to oversee the final phase of construction. I remember being in the room one day when he and a lower officer were having an argument. Apparently the lower officer was concerned that the plans for the station weren't being safeguarded very well. Tarkin retorted that, if his subordinate thought the plans could reveal any potential flaws in the station, he dared the man to find those flaws!

"I should have kept my mouth shut… but I thought I was being helpful. I told them that the sole flaw aboard the station was Thermal Exhaust Port THX-1138, in the equilateral trench.

"It was in that moment I realized that no other stormtrooper had my Finding ability. After all, would they have stared at me with such expressions of shock if any clone could announce sensitive information on command?

"I was arrested on the spot and interrogated relentlessly, for the officers suspected I was a Rebel spy in disguise. They surely would have killed me had Tarkin not realized my gift and seen use for it. I was promptly released from my tour of duty and transferred to his personal residence as an 'assistant.' I suspect he wished to use me to further his own personal ends, whatever they were. At any rate, I never found out – he died a few weeks later when the Rebels exploited the flaw I had discovered and destroyed the Death Star. Why Tarkin never made good of my information, I'll never know.

"From that point forward, I became an outcast. The officers seemed to have forgotten my talent, or they chose to ignore it. But my brothers shunned my company at all costs. I was different, a concept totally alien to them, and they had no idea how to handle it. There was no place for a Finder among them. My gift had become a curse.

"I was transferred to Corellia, where I have served ever since. Word of the Emperor's death arrived two weeks ago, along with the order to carry on at all costs. At the time, we believed the Empire would still triumph, that losing the Emperor was only a setback.

"It soon became clear that we had lost the war, however. The Empire, having lost its heart, was now in its death throes. Our officers were determined to scrounge what they could from the pieces, however, and used us to loot, plunder, and snatch what riches and power they could before retreating. Our own garrison was ordered to attack a nearby village on the grounds that they were plotting a terrorist attack on our base."

Tuck's dark eyes met mine. "Believe me, I did not take place in the atrocities there. I may be an Imperial soldier, but I could not bring myself to shoot _children! _I was called weak by the others… but it is really a strength to be able to shoot a defenseless child?

"We were preparing to leave Corellia this morning, hoping to meet up with the remains of the Imperial Army near the Core, when the survivors of our raid ambushed us. And, of course, that was where you came into the story."

Tuck closed his eyes and touched his forehead to the crown of his helmet. "All I ever wanted was to be like the others. I want nothing more than to be rid of my curse and be accepted among my brothers again." He opened his eyes and gazed longingly at the ring. "Can your ring strip me of my Finding ability? Or can you use the Force to destroy it?"

I had never heard of anyone willingly losing their affinity to the Force. Among the Jedi and Sith, such a thing was unthinkable. But then, the Force was the rule rather than the exception among both Orders. I lifted my hand, the ivory of the ring gleaming in the firelight. Surely it could not hurt to try…

My hand spasmed as if cramping. Frowning, I flexed the fingers and reached for Tuck again… and felt another burst of pain. The ring refused to cooperate.

"I am sorry, Tuck," I replied, "but I cannot."

His dark eyes clouded, but he swiftly controlled himself. "Then perhaps we'll come across someone who can help me." He slipped his helmet back on. "There are still wizards and witches out there – the Empire can't have destroyed them all. At least one that can help me be rid of my cursed talent must exist."

Another optimistic soul, it would seem. Such faith struck me as inspiring, if rather naïve. I will admit, I was a cynic, and who could blame me? I had had my own hopes and dreams shattered so many times, it seemed pointless to me to have faith in anything anymore. But I couldn't bring myself to dash any of my newfound friends' hopes.

"Well, welcome to the gang, Tuck," Luke told him, extending a hand. "Good to have you here."

"Thanks," was the clone's sincere reply.

And so it was that Tuck, a Force-strong stormtrooper outcast, became the sixth member of our strange company. It seemed that he fit into our company seamlessly, pitching in to douse the fire and clean up after dinner, chatting amiably with Luke and Jessa, and becoming acquainted with Nightwind. Even Fett unfrosted enough to bid him welcome.

I refastened Nightwind's collar, all the while listening to Luke and Tuck converse and Jessa softly sing a song about "Fire and Rain" as she buried the ashes of our fire. I still had no idea what lay in store for us now that our refuge had been destroyed, but wherever we ended up, whatever lay ahead, it would at least prove to be an interesting journey. Though I had to wonder – who was the seventh member of our company, and how would he, she, or it fit into the scheme of things?

_Break…_

The woman in silver had a serene expression on her face, but her voice was urgent. Her slim hand beckoned, her strangely colorless eyes fixed onto mine and trapped my gaze.

_Come._

_How can I come when I don't even know who you are or how to find you? _I protested.

_The seventh will help you, my young one. The seventh will lead the way. As for who I am… do you not know? We have met before – many times, in fact._

_Then why do I not recognize you?_

She gestured toward my left hand, and the ring burst to life, dazzling my eyes with golden light.

_Consult your birthright. It will tell you._

Visions filled my mind, not the disjointed scenes of before, but memories with a shared thread, a common denominator…

…a group of Gamorrean gaurds having some fun at my two-and-a-half-year-old self's expense in the basement of Gardulla the Hutt's palace, shoving and taunting me until I was crying for mercy… and a gray-scaled Trandoshan interceding, rebuking the porcine aliens with a vicious hiss before taking my hand in a clawed grip and leading me back to my mother…

…a scuffed, weather-beaten, pewter-plated pit droid squeaking anxiously, drawing my attention to a disconnected power cord that could have quite possibly resulted in a fatal meltdown mid-race…

…a teenage female Padawan in stormcloud-colored robes finding me, morose and longing for home, on a balcony in the Jedi Temple, and offering a few words of comfort and the gift of a polished stone from her homeworld, an exotic treasure that I ended up losing a few weeks later…

…a clonetrooper shoving me out of the path of a toppling statue during a pivotal Clone War battle on Ithor, leaving me shaken but grateful as I helped his comrades extract him from the rubble and carry him to the med center, his armor gray with dust…

…a grizzled, gray-haired Colonel whose name I no longer recalled dropping an oblique hint in passing, a hint that led to the discovery and ultimate thwarting of a carefully plotted attempt on my life…

…a lazy stormtrooper loitering in a doorway, armor silvered by cloud-filtered light… a doorway leading to the very ring that had started it all…

_You see? _The voice sounded amused now. _I have been watching you for many years now, young one…_

_Why? Who am I that you see fit to shadow me wherever I go and harass me in my sleep? What do you want of me?_

_The question is – what do you want of me, young one?_

I could not answer that.

_Find me. Take as long as you need, but no longer. I'll be waiting._

_Break…_

I awoke to voices – and the stabbing pulse of the ring.

"Gerrup," grunted the beast standing over me, his shape indefinite in the predawn light, his demand emphasized by a kick in the ribs.

I sat up, bewildered. The camp was a shambles, every pack and sleeping pallet having been rifled through and tossed carelessly about. Luke, Tuck, and Fett knelt close by, hands on their heads in surrender, a cluster of surly men and women standing guard over them. Four of them held Jessa, who was swearing profusely and thrashing madly to escape. Ragged but heavily armed civilians crowded the camp, pawing through our supplies, fixing chains to a cowering, whimpering Nightwind, hooting and crowing their triumph.

"What th' bleedin' 'ell…" gaped the man who had kicked me awake. "We go lookin' for th' last trooper an' get Darth Vader!"

"All the better," grinned a young woman who held Jessa's leg. "Skywalker and Vader're worth five million creds for the pair."

I got to my feet. My captor kept his weapon trained on me, which wasn't surprising seeing as he hardly came higher than my chest, though his girth more than made up for his vertical handicap. He was nearly bald on top, his hair having migrated long ago to his shaggy forearms and stubbled chin. What teeth he still possessed were broken and yellow, and tiny bloodshot eyes glittered nervously through the rolls of fat on his face.

"Stang, he's bigger in person, ain't he?" breathed the man standing guard over Fett.

"'ow we gonna get 'im on th' ship?" demanded the fat one, shuddering with fear until his jowls shook sickeningly. "What if 'e snaps an' kills us all?"

"The reward doesn't specify dead or alive," the woman replied with an evil grin. "Shoot him."

"No!" Luke screamed, starting to stand.

"Luke, sit!" I ordered, wanting no harm to come to him.

The fat man panicked at the sound of my voice and fired. My right leg crumpled beneath me, and I fell to my knees.

"Shut up," the woman ordered. A shrewd look came over her face. "So you have something going with Lord Vader, don't you? Switched sides, huh?"

"Just don't hurt him," Luke pleaded.

"Oh, is it something more?" she taunted. "You two friends? Lovers? You didn't strike me the type, Skywalker… but no matter. We're not taking chances, not after what the Empire did to our village…"

A shriek tore the air, and the woman cried out in angry pain as a great brown shape dove at her face, raking savagely with glittering talons.

"What th' 'ell?" the fat man gaped.

Fett took full advantage of the distraction to bring his elbow up in his captor's groin. The man buckled in agony, and Fett jerked his blaster from his hands and opened fire.

I struggled to my feet, my leg malfunctioning but still able to support my weight. Blaster fire hummed around me as first Fett, then Luke and Tuck, fought back. Jessa had broken free as well, though she concentrated on freeing Nightwind from his bonds.

"Run for it!"

I turned at that cry. The creature that had attacked the ringleader now swooped at the others, scattering them before her like prey. A great earth-colored bird with a wingspan as long as I was tall, she slashed with wicked talons and a great hooked beak at those who would have surely killed us.

The ring throbbed. No, this couldn't be… how could she be the seventh?

"Run!" she ordered, her fiercely intelligent amber eyes flashing. "I'll catch up with you later!"

I dared not question our savior. The others were already fleeing; the creature's distraction was proving just enough to buy us a much-needed escape opportunity. Jessa came forward and helped me support my injured side, and we departed into the forest, away from the chaos.


	8. Searching for the Shadow

**Chapter VII – Searching for the Shadow**

"The bird is hiding something."

I glanced up from making repairs on my damaged leg, not a little startled at Fett's declaration. He had been his usual quiet self for the past few days, so this was a surprise.

"What do you mean?" I inquired.

Fett, who had been laying down and taking a rest from the day's activity, struggled to a sitting-up position and gazed at me across the snapping fire. "You wear the ring. If it's so powerful, can't you sense it? Something's not right about that bird, and she's not telling us."

"Not like any bird I've seen," Nightwind put in, still licking his fangs from his recent forage for meat. "Doesn't smell right either. A little like cold embers, but nothing else. Not anything I recognize."

"And how many birds talk?" Jessa piped up from where she crouched on a tree limb, her tattered cloak and hunched-over pose giving her an uncanny resemblance to a cadaverous scavenger bird. "Sure, some'll repeat what they hear, but one that actually communicates – and that we can all understand, not just you? Come on, even in your guys' galaxy, that can't be too common."

"Maybe she's a new species," Luke suggested as he finished warming the ration trays and doled them out to Tuck and Fett. "There are plenty of intelligent aliens that resemble animals."

"All the same," said Tuck, looking up from unrolling a bedroll, "let's talk to her. Yes, she saved our lives. Yes, we're in her debt. But we still need to make sure she's not a threat."

I reconnected a final wire, then pulled my boot over my leg to hide the components. "And if I confront the bird, what do you expect me to do? She is the seventh member of our group. The ring confirms it. Can we really turn her away or destroy her if she proves to be a danger?"

"Probably not," Luke acknowledged. "But we can use caution…"

The conversation died as the subject of our discussion landed in the clearing. She lowered her head and dropped something at my feet – a cluster of plants pulled up by their roots.

"For your friend the hunter." She spoke with the grace of a queen, yet there was a peculiar tiredness in her voice, an aged quality as if she were an old woman. "Wash them well, cut them up roots and all, and brew them with some sweetener. It will ease his pain and help him sleep through the night."

Tuck retrieved the herbs and complied. I had to wonder, however. How did a bird learn so much about healing and medicinal plants? Not to mention other things…

When the bird had attacked our captors, we had taken advantage of their distraction and fled, leaving all our gear behind. The day had been spent in hiding and retreat as the irate men and women trailed us through the woods, intent on recapturing us, only to be driven back time and again by our strange defender. By they had finally given up the chase and departed, it was dusk, and our exhausted party retired to the nearest clearing to scrounge together whatever camp we could…

…only to find a welcoming fire awaiting us, and the mysterious bird regarding us from her perch atop our neatly stacked supplies.

I studied her carefully for the first time. As tall as a three-year-old child, with the deep chest and hooked beak and talons of a bird of prey, her amber eyes flashed and sparkled, fierce one moment and gentle the next. A crest of feathers crowned her head, and a train of long tail feathers trailed behind her. Her plumage was generally a nondescript medium brown, though here and there one could catch a hint of faded scarlet or blue, as if she had been painted and the paint was coming away in chips. She may have been a beautiful creature at one time, but now she looked ragged and worn, dust filming her plumage and both crest and tail feathers frayed and broken in places.

"I sense," she said at length, "you have questions for me?" She cocked her head to one side inquisitively.

"Yes," I replied. "Who are you? Why did you help us? And how did you start a fire and retrieve our supplies on your own?"

She ducked her head under one wing – not to hide in shame or embarrassment, but to rearrange the feathers to suit her liking. "I suppose the last question is the easiest… and the answer is that my kind are, by nature, very strong and capable of carrying huge loads. And we have an intuitive understanding of fire." She busied herself with preening, as if expecting us to be satisfied with that answer.

"You haven't finished," rasped Fett. "Who are you?"

"More importantly, WHAT are you?" demanded Jessa.

She lifted her head and gave us a regal gaze. "I suppose there can be no harm in telling it to you… after all, one of you wears the fabled unicorn ring…"

What did that have to do with anything? But before I could voice that question, an incredible metamorphosis took place.

The bird spread her wings, and an amazing change came over her. A metallic sheen spread over her plumage, plumage that was no longer tatty and brown, but whole and shining with luster, glowing with every color of the rainbow. She seemed to swell to twice her size, giving off the radiance of a small star, sparks of color swirling about her like chips of jewels…

"Wow, she's beautiful," breathed Luke.

"Pretty," marveled Nightwind.

"HOLY SITH!" screeched Jessa, and promptly fell out of her tree. Actually, the word she used wasn't "Sith," but I was too fascinated by the bird's sudden transformation to listen closely.

The bird folded herself away again, fading back to brown. "Sorry," she said weakly. "I can't hold it as long as I used to. What you saw is how I looked when I was younger…"

"Sonofa…" Jessa grumbled, hauling herself to her feet. "The frickin' bird's a phoenix!"

"A what?" Tuck demanded.

"Phoenix," Jessa repeated. "They're immortal birds of Chinese and Greek mythology… um, okay, so not a myth exactly… they live for five hundred years, then burst into flame and are reborn from the ashes. Or so the stories go."

Luke frowned. "That seems weird."

"No more unusual than the ring," Tuck pointed out.

I realized my mouth was hanging open, and I snapped it shut, though seeing as I wore a mask I suppose it wasn't that big a deal. Not just a bird, but a creature of everlasting life! Never, in a hundred lifetimes, could I have guessed that an immortal would be the seventh!

"Your friend is correct," the bird said wearily. "I am a phoenix. And yes, we are immortal… if we choose to be."

I found my voice at last. "What do you mean?"

"If we elect to be born again, we must build a pyre and burn ourselves upon it when we reach the five hundredth year of live in our present incarnation. Of course, immortality is not synonymous with invincibility – we can be killed, though we usually generate a new body and live again." Her feathers bristled, and she gave herself a vigorous shake. "But if one does not wish to continue life, they can forego the burning ritual… and fade away naturally."

I understood the hidden message behind her explanation. "And you wish to take the latter path?"

"I am old, Vader," she replied, closing her golden eyes. "Older than the Old Republic, older than the Jedi Order. My kind was old when man's dream of traveling the stars was just that – a dream, nothing more. I have existed for millennia. I have seen entire civilizations rise, thrive, blaze in a moment of glory, and crumble to ruin. The Empire's reign was a mere day and evening, the Galactic Civil War a heartbeat of twilight. I am old, tired, worn. To one such as I, oblivion would be a welcome rest."

I heard Luke murmur something that sounded like "And I thought Yoda was old."

But Nightwind was confused. "Why would someone want to die? Makes no sense."

Her eyes opened, and her head jerked around to regard the acklay. "I know it is difficult for mortals to understand. But don't you realize, young creature, how lucky you are? Your life is all the more glorious for its temporal nature, just as a summer's day is all the more precious for the knowledge that tomorrow will come the storms of winter. Mortals long for the secret to eternal life, but they don't realize the consequences of such knowledge. Can you truly imagine outliving everything you hold dear – friends, loved ones, nations, ideals, causes? No." Her eyes took on a faraway look. "I have lived far longer than most. I have even outlived many of my fellow immortals. I have no desire to prolong my life. My current five hundred years ends in a little more than a year, and then I can rest. Until then…" She nodded in my direction. "I have a feeling the six of you need me."

I returned the gesture. "We would be honored if you would join us, Lady Phoenix."

"Ash," she corrected. "Call me Ash. No formalities, please."

"Very well, Ash," I amended. "Welcome."

"To the Fellowship of the Ring," Jessa quipped, then snorted with laughter at a joke no one else understood but the phoenix.

"Good one, young lady," Ash said, eyes dancing with laughter. "Now, I have told you my story. Perhaps you will tell me yours?"

So once again we related the tale of how we had met, gathered, and traveled. She listened attentively, giving an annoyed hiss when I mentioned the Emperor but otherwise quiet. She seemed to know of the ring already, making an explanation unnecessary.

"I have been following your party for awhile now, you know," she said at length. "I felt a pull toward you, as if I were to join you and guide you. And now that I know your story and desires, I think I know how to help all of you."

Nightwind glanced up from grooming his foreclaws. Fett propped himself up on one elbow to listen. Even Jessa was silent.

"Magicians of all calibers exist in this galaxy of ours," she explained. "They have stayed hidden in recent times, avoiding society in general for fear of being destroyed as Jedi or witches. I have had contact with a few of them over the centuries… and of all of them, I think the one who is your greatest hope is the one known as the Shadow."

"The Shadow?" repeated Luke. "That's an odd name."

"Many wizards take on grandiose titles to flaunt their seniority," Ash explained. "The Ancient, the Old One, the Antiquity, the Ageless One, the Timeless Sage, to name a few. The Shadow opted for a name not tied to her immortality, partly because she is far younger than most of her compatriots, but mostly because she finds such age-related names ridiculous."

"Good for her," Jessa said.

"Where can we find the Shadow?" asked Tuck excitedly. "Is she here, on this planet?"

"She is wherever she is needed," Ash said cryptically. "Tuck, the tea is ready. Give it to Fett quickly, for it loses its potency when it cools too much."

I remembered my dream, the silver-robed woman, and her order to find her. So this woman was a sorceress, and she had a name – the Shadow. And she had been correct – the seventh member of our group indeed knew how to find her.

Part of me felt incalculable relief that our wanderings were finally over, that our journey finally had a destination. But another part of me felt strangely apprehensive, somehow knowing that the Shadow would not prove to be the end of our quest.

The ring pulsed softly. It seemed to know what lay ahead, but it was not forthcoming with that information. Which was just as well, for if I had know, would I have continued any farther?

_Break…_

Misfortune befell us the very next day, and the journey only worsened from that point on.

"Someone tell the droid to stop singing!" Fett bellowed, his annoyance having reached critical mass. "She's driving me insane!"

"First off, I'm a cyborg, not a droid," Jessa pointed out. "Get it right. Second, what's wrong with enjoying a few tunes…"

"A few!" he repeated in an exasperated shriek. "You haven't shut up since dawn! I've heard that blasted 'American Pie' fifty times now…"

"I've only sung it twice, you liar!"

"And that's two times too many!"

"Fett, cool it," Luke advised, beginning to sound like a parent calming down two bickering siblings. "She's not doing anything to hurt you. And Jessa, if the pie song annoys him, sing something else. It's not worth the hassle."

She grumbled something obscene before launching into song again. "Her name was Lola, she was a showgirl…"

"No, please!" screamed Tuck, clamping his hands on his helmet as if to cover his ears. "Anything but that!"

"Why are y'all so picky anyhow?" complained Jessa.

"Quiet!" I ordered. "Ash is returning."

The phoenix had flown ahead to ascertain that we were on the correct path and to search out any possible obstacles. She landed atop Nightwind's load and folded her wings. "The good news is that we are on the right track."

"The bad news?"

"Over the next hill is a broad river, lying directly across our path. We have no choice but to find a way across."

"Is there a visible means of crossing?"

"I saw no boat or bridge. But it's not too deep, we can ford it."

Nightwind whimpered. "Don't like water."

I do not know what Ash considered deep, and I'm not sure I want to know. The dark green waters that blocked our way certainly did not fit my definition of "not too deep." Heavy rains and mountain runoff had swollen the river until it threatened to burst its banks. I considered a moment, then ordered Jessa to scout further downstream for a better crossing sight and Luke to look upstream for the same.

"Rapids downstream," Jessa reported on her return. "No chance there."

"As deep as ever my way," Luke replied.

"I have already ascertained that this is the best crossing site," said Ash, sounding a little annoyed that we had questioned her observations. "The water is deep, but not deep enough to hamper the acklay…"

"Don't like water," Nightwind repeated.

"…so if he were to cross first, deposit the baggage on shore, then come back for the rest of us, we could manage."

Luke shrugged. "I don't have any better ideas, so let's give it a shot."

"Don't like water," Nightwind insisted, digging his spike-legs into the ground.

"There is no other way," I told him. "We have to cross if we are to find the Shadow, and you are our only hope."

It took a great deal of persuasion to convince him to cross, and even then he moaned and grumbled as he minced into the river. Rushing water gurgled about his legs, swiftly rising to his belly as he waded further out. He gazed back at us with the expression of one imparting a vast favor at incredible personal expense.

"Good boy!" encouraged Jessa. "Keep going, you're halfway there…"

But by the halfway point he was buried in the rushing liquid up to the shoulders. The press of the current shoved against our supplies (thankfully wrapped in watertight material) and pushed the poor acklay off-balance. His black eyes flashed in sudden terror as he lost his footing on the slick rocks and muck of the riverbed – his legs were horribly unsuited for grasping anything – and the merciless river swept him downstream.

The ring seemed to explode on my hand, sending fire through my veins.

"No!" shouted Luke and Jessa at the same time.

"Help me!" cried Nightwind.

I swore loudly and ran after the beleaguered acklay. Stang it all! Not now! We couldn't lose him! It was far more than the loss of our supplies that drove me – Nightwind had become a friend, part of our oddball, thrown-together "family," and I could not let him drown!

Evidently Luke had the same thought, for he was right on my heels. Tuck went one better, though – he plunged into the murky waters and swam after Nightwind, at last catching his lead. But there was no possible way one man could pull the creature to shore, and he was dragged swiftly downstream with the beast.

I do not know exactly what happened next, only that all of us were in the water, oblivious to personal danger as we struggled to push and pull each other to shore. I remember Nightwind's howls of terror, Tuck's sudden shout of pain, the lurch of the current as it dragged us pitilessly through the rapids, the stab of the ring, an enormous crushing weight…

I awoke to find myself drenched to the bone, lying facedown in the mud, with the ring burning brightly and Ash pecking at my helmet.

"Wake up," she urged. "The others need you."

I pulled myself to my feet. "What happened?"

"Nightwind rolled on top of you when he flipped in the rapids," Jessa explained, wringing water from her almost-totally-shredded cloak. "We thought you were dead at first, but Ash saw you were breathing…"

The ring's fire subsided. Had it played a role in saving my life? By all accounts I should have been drowned or crushed to death…

A moan brought me back to my senses. The others were strewn along the shoreline like so much flotsam washed up in the current. Luke was on his hands and knees, coughing up water, his cheek scraped and bloody from a collision with a rock. Fett sprawled on his back in the mud, arms and legs akimbo, looking as if he wouldn't want to be anywhere else but there. Tuck lay on his side, curled in a fetal position, groaning and clutching his left shoulder. Nightwind shivered nearby, legs tucked beneath him and eyes glazed. And our supplies…

"Gone," Jessa said soberly. "Washed downstream. All of them."

"I'm deeply sorry," Ash told me, dipping her head in great shame. "I thought for sure… but even immortals are not infallible, I'm afraid."

I went to Luke first. "Are you all right, son?"

"I'll be fine," he said hoarsely, stifling another bout of coughing. "Tuck's not, though…"

"Dislocated my shoulder," Tuck grunted. "Think you can… argh… fix it?"

"I can try," I replied, though truth be told, first aid was not my specialty. I placed my left hand on his shoulder, feeling him tremble and flinch with pain. Immediately I sensed that there was too much damage for the ring to handle alone, but how to lessen that damage…

Then the ring chimed in with a strange prompting.

"Luke, get me a stick," I ordered, pulling off Tuck's shoulder armor.

"A stick?"

"The diameter of your thumb or thicker. And quickly!"

Luke handed me a piece of driftwood, which I gave to Tuck. "Bite it," I ordered. "This is going to hurt."

He caught on at once and clamped the wood in his teeth. "Ready."

Closing my eyes, I pictured in my mind where I wanted the disordered bones to go, then, with a sharp but cautious wrench, popped the bone back into the socket. Tuck screamed through his clenched teeth, but thankfully he did not exacerbate the situation by jerking away. Touching the ring to his shoulder a final time to speed the healing, I replaced his armor.

"Use caution with that arm until it heals," I ordered.

"Will do," he moaned.

"Now what?" groaned Fett, not moving.

Now what indeed? Our food, our medical equipment, our shelter, our bedding materials, everything had been lost to the rapids. The others could forage off the land if the need arose, I supposed, but Jessa and I were in worse straits. My internal components, though complex, were hardy, and I could go perhaps a week, two at most, without medical attention. But Jessa had mentioned that she would need medical assistance in a few weeks time as well, and if the journey to find the Shadow took any longer…

"We go on," Luke declared. "We find the Shadow. We have no other choice."

Nightwind only keened miserably.

Break… 

That evening we reached the edge of the woods – and a wind-scoured, virtually plantless plain that stretched in an expanse of hard gray earth as far as the eye could see. The ground was littered with stones like the scattered bones of beasts, and the sky above was equally hard and gray with scuds of darker-gray clouds. And the wind… it clawed at our clothes, blasted silt into our faces, pressed at us in an effort to bowl us over. It was as if the wind had joined us as an unwelcome guest, battering, tormenting, obscuring the path.

As if to make restitution for his failure at the river, Nightwind left the group often to hunt for food, giving most of it to the others. I am sure that the food was often more trouble than it was worth – any fire built in this storm struggled to survive and either barely cooked the meat or charred it, and more often than not the food was crusted in grit thanks to the brutal elements. But Luke, Tuck, and Fett were past caring and ate it anyway, though the exclusively carnivorous diet and liberal seasoning of dirt wreaked havoc with their digestive tracts.

Days passed. The food dwindled to almost nothing as game became scarce. Sleep was nigh impossible thanks to the wind and rocky ground, and everyone became edgy and miserable from exhaustion. Luke developed a bad cough that would not abate, Tuck's shoulder refused to heal, Fett grew steadily weaker, Ash looked older and more tattered by the day, Nightwind lost weight at an alarming rate, Jessa's joints were so full of grit she found it increasingly difficult to move, and my entire body ached in protest as the journey took its toll. Yet we stubbornly pressed on, forcing ourselves to take one more step, cross one more rise, trek one more kilometer…

Fett was the first to fall. I hauled him to his feet, and he nodded once in generous (for him) thanks and limped onward. Luke stumbled and fell, catching himself on Tuck's arm, and the trooper helped him regain his balance. Once even I felt my strength suddenly flee, and only Nightwind's muzzle against my chest saved me from collapsing.

The second time Fett collapsed, he refused to get up. I solved the problem by throwing him over Nightwind's shoulders. The fiercely independent hunter's pride won out, and two minutes later he was walking again.

But not long afterward, Tuck fell to his knees. "I can't do this anymore," he moaned. "Go on without me…"

"What kind of talk is that?" demanded Luke. "No one's getting left behind. Come on!"

But Nightwind had had enough too. "I can't go on! I quit! Somebody shoot me, I'm starving and I hurt and I'm tired…"

"We must continue on together," I told them, but not without sympathy. "We must stand together if our quest is to succeed…"

"Screw the quest!" Jessa cut in savagely. "Screw the galaxy, screw the Shadow, and screw you!" She curled in a ball and buried her faceplate in her knee joints. "My eyes hurt, I can barely move, my tank's running on empty… I just wanna go home…"

"We have to go on," Ash told them. "There is an end to the journey, I promise."

They didn't seem convinced, but in the end they resignedly got to their feet and trudged on.

At last, my own spirit gave out. I knelt in the dust and shut out the pleas and arguments of the others and the frantic stab of the ring. It was all too much. I hurt so badly, I was so exhausted, and even if we made it to the Shadow, what then? I had no future. I was a fugitive, a vagabond, rejected by all but my son. I would be doing Luke and myself – not to mention the galaxy – a great favor by simply fading into oblivion as Ash wished to do…

"Take heart, my friends! I'm coming!"

That voice… it was at once gentle, wise, firm, and oddly alien. Not the Shadow's voice, I knew that much, for this voice was male…

I lifted my head. In the distance a flare of color could be seen, growing larger and taking definite shape as it zigzagged closer. Four legs could be seen, a head, a brilliant plumed tail…

All exhaustion was forgotten in an instant at the sight. Fragments began clicking into place – the being in silver robes, the rainbow beast, the windstorm… the terrible tempest and mysterious travelers on Corusant the week of my birth…

I was witnessing a legend come to life.


	9. Shadow of the Dragon

_WARNING: This chapter has a high weird content. In fact, the remainder of this fic will be extremely bizarre, not to mention very liberal concerning the whole canon issue. Proceed with caution from this point forward._  
**Chapter VIII – Shadow of the Dragon**

"Dearie me, things are worse than we suspected… but you're here, that's the important thing!"

The thing's voice was far too cheerful for my tastes, but it had a comforting voice, like a grandfather or a gentle teacher. The creature skidded to a halt just before me, allowing me a closer scrutiny. It possessed the powerful body and uncloven hooves of a horse, a long thin tail with a huge, brilliantly colored plume at the tip, a flaring mane about its jaws, a small horn set between its eyes, and fine antennae sweeping back from its mouth. Its intelligent eyes were a soft brown to match Jessa's, its legs dark gray, its body striped with blue, purple, brown, and rose with a bright yellow belly, and both the ruffed mane and tail plume glittered with crimson, green, and gold. The amalgamation of parts and colors seemed bizarre at first sight, but once one got past the strangeness they could appreciate the strange beauty of the creature.

"Well then…don't give up, my friends, you're almost there! Just another kilometer and a half to the Shadow's home! That's right, keep coming, just a little further and over the rise…"

Somehow, impossibly, new strength surged through my blood, and my companions perked up at once upon hearing the news. The knowledge that our destination was so close served as a beacon to draw us forward, to follow our queer messenger/guide as he continued to spout encouragement in his pleasant, alien voice. Reserves of energy I had not known existed opened up, and I blocked out the pain and fatigue and focused only on moving forward. The others took heart from the news and lifted their heads a little higher as they continued.

Fett fell down again, but this time he wrestled himself to his feet, though slowly. Tuck took a nasty spill that jarred his injured shoulder painfully, but he did not complain as he stood and kept going. The last hill, little more than a slight swell of ground, felt like a mountain to our aching, weary legs, but that only made our triumph all the sweeter as we crested it to look down upon…

More plain, stretching as far as the eye could see. Spread out upon that plain, an enormous transparisteel building housing the largest indoor garden I had ever come across. And affixed to that building, a much smaller cube-shaped stone house with an arched doorway on the side facing us.

Weary, dirty, spent, trailing after the rainbow beast like battle-worn soldiers after their commander, we literally dragged ourselves and each other down the hill to the stone building, where a woman in flowing metallic-silver robes and matching veil that obscured all but her eyes stood waiting.

"Thank you, Ky-Lin my friend, for escorting them." Her voice was quiet, rough, yet sounded too young to belong to an immortal sorceress. To our party she invited "Inside, my friends. There is food, water, a recharger unit…"

We needed no further encouragement but staggered inside. Even Nightwind squeezed through the doorway and scuttled inside. As I passed through the doorway, however, the Shadow stopped me, drawing into her arms in an embrace.

"It is good to see you again," she murmured. "But you are very late, young one. Very late indeed."

_Break…_

Before I could question the Shadow regarding her strange remark, I was whisked into a spotlessly clean chamber jammed with medical equipment and told to take my time. With that invitation, I laid aside all doubts and questions and luxuriated in the comfort I had been offered. By the time I emerged a good hour later, I felt I had more than made up for the week we had trudged across the plains.

The others had obviously kept busy in my absence. Everyone looked cleaner, for one thing. Luke, Tuck, and Fett sat at a long table in the center of the main living area, hair damp and all clad in simple gray robes as they ate some sort of hot grain-and-fruit concoction. Ash perched at one end of the table and ate delicately from a bowl of the same – despite her prey-bird resemblance the phoenix was an omnivore. Nightwind curled up in one corner of the room and chewed noisily on the leg bone of some sort of beast. Jessa lay sprawled on the bench along the wall, joints well-oiled and clear of sand, a tinny snore issuing from her faceplate. And the Shadow bustled about like a cheery housewife, ensuring that bowls were kept full and her guests were comfortable.

"Ah, welcome back, my friend!" she said in that rough but youthful voice of hers. "The others are just finishing up their meal – at least I think they are – hard to tell with young men, their stomachs can be black holes, can't they?"

"I'd like a refill," Tuck requested, pushing his bowl forward. With both Fett and the trooper minus their customary armor, it was tricky business telling them apart. Only Fett's scars and hard eyes set him apart.

I seated myself at the table, taking a moment to scan the room. Large, but not overly so, it was modestly furnished and seemed to serve as a combination dining room, sitting room, and kitchen. Curiously, I saw nothing to indicate this home's occupant was a sorceress – apart from the rainbow beast, Ky-Lin, who stood at attention in the doorway leading to the greenhouse. I only saw furniture and appliances typical of a modest home, all aged and plain but in good working order.

"Thank you, Lady Shadow, for everything," I told her. "We had come to the end of our endurance…"

"As I'm sure your friend Ash has told you, I am wherever I am needed." She filled another bowl from a cooking reactor and set it before the Ky-Lin, who accepted it gratefully. "You seven aren't the first travelers to stagger, exhausted and starving, onto my doorstep, and you won't be the last."

"A whole nerf to myself!" Nightwind declared happily. "Best I've had in months! And a bath!"

"Hope you enjoyed it, you aren't getting another for awhile," the Shadow told him in a gently teasing tone. "Baby or not, you're a lot of acklay to bathe." She wiped her hands on a cloth, then took a seat on the counter. "Now down to business."

Now that the Shadow was finally holding relatively still, I had an opportunity to take a closer look at her. She still wore the matching silver robes and veil, so of her face only her eyes, cheekbones, and bridge of her nose were visible. A belt consisting of a length of silver chain circled her waist beneath the outer robe, a belt from which two steel daggers and a gray leather pouch hung. Leather gloves, also silver, encased her slender hands, and her feet were clad in soft leather shoes – again, silver. Everything about her seemed gray or silver – her wardrobe, her ashen skin, the curl of silver-blond hair that had escaped her veil, and most notably her pale silver, nearly colorless eyes. It was those eyes that most intrigued me – there was something… not human to them, almost an animal quality, like a wolf's eyes.

"I know the seven of you didn't come all this way to shoot the breeze," she went on, oblivious to my gaze. "Perhaps you can enlighten me…"

"You know very well why we are here," I countered.

She gave me a penetrating look. "Perhaps I do. But I want to hear it in your words, just so I don't misinterpret anything."

So once again we repeated the tale of our travels, this time adding our personal stories where appropriate. The Shadow listened silently, nodding at intervals.

"So we've seven travelers seeking a magician for seven different purposes," she said at length once the story was through. "One seeking death, one a healing, one a master, one the destruction of a gift, one a body, one a refuge for a loved one…" Her gaze moved to Ash, Fett, Nightwind, Tuck, Jessa, and Luke in turn, then stopped at me. "And one who's not quite sure what he seeks."

"Can you help us?" Tuck inquired, a pleading note in his voice.

She shrugged. "I'll do what I can, but let me caution you that I'm not a particularly powerful sorceress." She drew one of her daggers and ran a finger along its edge. "My own fault, actually. My master, the Ancient, told me that one could not be the best at everything, and to focus on two or three lines of study. But I wanted to do it al – Shape-Shifting, Time-Traveling, Illusion, Transmutation, Crystal-Gazing, Dream-Manipulation, Languages… So the price of that desire is that I can perform any magic at a competent, but not an expert level. My only truly strong powers are those of Space-Manipulation and Scrying."

"Scrying?" Luke repeated. "What is that?"

"Would you like me to show you?" Without waiting for an answer she slid down from the counter, removed a clean bowl from a cabinet, and filled it with water. She set it down on the table and placed both hands on the rim. "Look closely…"

As one we leaned over to gaze at the contents of the bowl. Even Jessa had awakened and peered over Fett's shoulder for a glimpse. The Shadow touched a fingertip to the water's surface, and images appeared on its surface as if it were a vidscreen – Rebel starfighters fleeing before the deadly bulk of a Stardestroyer… rioters hauling down and breaking apart a massive statue of the Emperor… a city in flames… stormtroopers being overpowered by angry mobs but determined to fight to the end…

"The galaxy is in chaos," the Shadow murmured. "The New Order was harsh and cruel, yes, but still an Order. Let us pray that the Rebellion will realize that the war will not end until they restore some order."

"Scrying," Jessa murmured. "Seeing things as they happen. Sweet."

"A competent Scryer can scry events anywhere in the galaxy as they happen," the Shadow replied. "But a master Scryer can look into the past as well…" She swirled the water as if panning for precious metals, and new, startling images flashed to life – Luke and Princess Leia crossing the Death Star chasm as blaster fire whined past… acklay cubs tumbling over each other on the forest floor… a formation of stormtroopers striding down a Stardestroyer hallway… Jango Fett ordering his son aboard the Slave before facing down a Jedi… a golden phoenix stroking the air with her wings… a young man and a little girl playing with action figures on the couch… podracers tearing across the desert…

"Stang," murmured Luke, leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes. "Stang…"

"Of course, scrying isn't going to solve your problems," she said as she pushed the bowl away. "I would like to talk with each of you separately to ascertain what you really want. That way, I can help each of you adequately."

"But we know what we want already!" protested Fett.

"Most of you, but not all." Her mouth was not visible, but the groove between her eyes indicated she wore a frown. "I'm rather puzzled, my young one. I was sure you, of all people, would know…"

I felt my brow wrinkle. "I want my son not to suffer for my sins. Beyond that… I want nothing."

"Nothing?" Her frown-line deepened. "No questions about the ring? No questions about your past? No desire to explore your birthright?"

"Jessa has satisfied my curiousity regarding the ring," I replied. "And I have no questions about my past. As for my birthright – I presume you mean the Force – I have explored both sides of the Force enough in my life. If I never resort to the Force or the dark side again, I will not regret it."

She closed her eyes, squeezing the lids together until her ashen skin was so creased with wrinkles she looked like an elderly woman. When her eyes opened, an anger glittered there that made everyone shrink back and look away, not wanting to risk the wrath of an enraged sorceress. Before I could move, however, she had taken the "chin" of my mask in one slim, strong hand and was staring into my eyes. Those pale, wild eyes, glowing with rage… they seemed to bore through my mask and into my soul…

"The bastard never told you," she hissed softly, and released me, though her gaze still pinned me to the spot. "He gave me his word that he… never mind." She looked away, incredible sadness replacing her fury. "I should have known not to make deals with a Sith."

"Deal with a Sith?" repeated Luke, bewildered.

I could only stare at the Shadow, confused. What deal had she made with Palpatine? What had he concealed from me? Did it involve the unicorn ring? What birthright had she referred to? The ring? And why had the ring been in the possession of my master?

"Tell me," I demanded quietly.

She shook her head. "Not in the presence of the others…"

"They are my friends," I countered. "It is no matter."

She sighed. "Cup your hands."

"What?"

"Just do it."

Her order confused me further, but at that point I was willing to do anything, if only to learn. The Shadow took the bowl from the table and tipped water into my cupped hands.

"I will show you," she murmured. "Fragments of it already exist, latent but waiting, in your mind. I will help you draw them out and fill in the gaps." Her own hands cradled mine, and I felt her power slip through me like a chill breeze. "Watch and learn, young one…"

The water in my hands silvered over, for a moment reflecting my mask in sharper detail than any mirror, then darkening and displaying the image of a dragon, a unicorn, a knight, a girl…

I recognized the images at once – I had seen them before in visions, meditations, dreams. They had been jumbled then, out of focus, and it was interesting to see them pieced together in the proper order, like a snapped necklace being restrung. Slowly the images flowed together to form a story… the story of the ring, perhaps?

The dragon… searching far and wide for the five gems that would rank him a master dragon… a night of celebration upon acquiring the last… his despair at returning to the cave to find the jewels gone, snatched by a witch…

The unicorn… battling the witch to save his beloved… his horn shattering against the witch's shield… his love ensconced in a crystal tomb that only a unicorn's horn could pierce…

The knight… a fair maiden appearing at his camp… his spurning of her affections… her dropping her disguise to reveal the same witch that had so cruelly treated the first two creatures…

…_May your armor remain rusty, your weapons blunted, your desires unfulfilled and your questions unanswered until you ask for the hand in marriage of the ugliest creature in the land!…_

The girl… hunchbacked, her face hidden behind a mask for fear of the ugliness underneath… a ruby buried in her stomach, bringing agony… her mistress the witch maintaining a tyrannical rule over her and her animal friends… an ornery crow with a sapphire embedded in his wing joint… a lethargic toad with an emerald set in his forehead… a perpetually nervous cat with a diamond sunk into her paw… a prideful fish with a huge pearl jammed permanently in its mouth… all in pain, all crippled, all Keepers of their mistress' stones against the dragon's search…

…_No, no not yet: they must have a living home, a living body, or He will seek them out… Hide, hide, my precious ones, till I find the formula…_

Then… salvation, as one of the witch's own spell-creations brought about her own fiery, violent death… the girl, who's only known name was Thing, setting off with the animals to find a home… the dragon's stones binding them as surely as the ring bound our company… the unicorn joining their fellowship, then the knight…

…_Go to find the owner of the pebbles, somewhere in the southwest. But maybe first a wise man, a sage, to show us the right path…_

The old magician, the Ancient, cranky but wise… pointing out a path through time that would bind them closer for the coming trial… monsters and dangers of every variety to face… a palace full of decadent, bloodthirsty nobles… trees that walked and devoured flesh… an enormous spider, larger than a nexu… a fanged, armored white sea-beast besieging a coastal village… the raging sea that threatened wet destruction… a shape-shifting nightmare beneath the surface of a deceptively placid lake… a tribe of feral humanoids…

…_You didn't change anything: Time-Travelers are observers. Oh, you robbed the Tree-People of a meal, released some trapped animals, helped a traveler on his way, but you didn't change history; you can only do that in the now, when it is your hand guiding the needle…_

Facing the dragon of the Black Mountain at last… the removal of the knight's curse, the restoration of the unicorn's horn, the removal of the stones and, with it, the return of memory… Thing recalling her past, her childhood as daughter of a great lord, her true name of Fleur, and the knowledge that she was not the deformed creature she had been bewitched into believing by her deceased mistress… the dragon's departure to his homeland, a Master Dragon once more…

…_I must. You know that, my little Fleur. Go back, child, to your love, and leave me to mine…_

The unicorn, in an explosion of crystal and horn, perishing to free his beloved… the remaining fragment of his horn… Fleur retrieving it as a keepsake, a ring… the fellowship dissolving as toad, crow, cat, and fish found new homes… Fleur and her beloved knight finding a home of their own at last… the ring staying in the family, being passed down through the generations until it ended up on the hand of a young woman…

…_Your father wore it round his neck on a cord, for it would not fit him either. He said it was from the horn of a unicorn, passed down in his family for generations, but it did nothing for him…_

Summer, a plain fat girl – or so she believed… daughter of the village whore and a mysterious traveler who left behind only a small dowry and the ring… her mother keeping her fattened like a prize bantha calf to keep her from marrying and leaving her side… the mother's sudden death and the callous villagers turning Summer out of their town… a curious mongrel by the side of the road who seemed eager to join her and knew something of great value…

…_Bit of 'orn off'n a Unicorn, that is! Now you can understand what all the creatures say if'n you pays a bit of attention… once it's on, it's on. Only come off if'n you don' need it no more, or don' deserve it. Very rare these days…_

Another queer fellowship banding together… girl, dog, horse, pigeon, tortoise, blind and amnesiac knight, and a freakish flying pig rescued from a carnival… cold, hunger, sickness, a sadistic ghost who nearly ensnared the seven of them in his trap… a rich but kindly merchant who offered shelter for the winter and became quite besotted with Summer… an equally wealthy but cruel and selfish noblewoman who sought the pig, an unusually intelligent creature, as a pet of her own… crossing into a hazardous country… the fellowship again breaking up as pigeon, tortoise, and horse returned to the wild and the knight regained memory and home… Summer regaining a suppressed memory of her own – and her true name…

…_And my mother said: "How can I call that shapeless lump with the pudding-face 'Talitha' when she is neither graceful nor beautiful, nor will ever be? I was pregnant when her father died, and he had made me promise to give her that name if it were a girl. Of course I agreed, never expecting she would be so plain and clumsy…" How could you remind me! I had forgotten, I didn't remember, it hurts!…_

Summer – no, Talitha – and the pig and dog retreating to a Place of Power, where great stones lay… the pig suddenly sloughing off his pig-form to become a dragon… but just as suddenly turning to a man…

…_It's all your fault, you know… if you hadn't kissed me – not once, but the magic three times – I would have appeared to you only in my dragon skin. As it is, I am now obliged to spend part of my life as a man…_

And a further revelation… Summer-Talitha's beauty, as the hard journey had worn away the fat her mother had disguised her with… a moment of fervent passion spent with the dragon-man… and a thunder of black wings as the dragon departed… Summer's return to the merchant's home, where she accepted his proposal of marriage… but then a curious longing, a hunger, an imaginary debate with her deceased mother…

…_You had my father, don't forget, you knew what real love felt like. You, too, had a choice. Didn't you ever regret not flinging everything aside and following him to the ends of the earth and beyond? A cruel and unjust death took him away from you, but at least you had your memories. And what have I got? A taste, just the tiniest taste, of what life could really be like, of what love meant…_

A thousand-mile journey east in the guise of a boy, with only her dog for company… then yet another ring-gathered company, consisting of Summer, the dog, the Ky-Lin – a surprise there – a bear, a rescued slave boy, a conceited merchant's apprentice named Dickon whom Summer could not trust… and most shocking of all, a dragon's egg…

…_Yours and – his… You truly are privileged, dear girl. You may not realize it but that egg, however it got there, has been a part of you for a year, you nourished it in your body, and whatever happens to it in the future, you will always be part of it. Also remember, it was created in love…_

Across deserts, over mountains, against thieves and cannibals and conniving men (including Dickon, whom even I had begun to hate)… to the Blue Mountains where the dragons lived… the dragon going to meet his beloved… their bargain with the other dragons, using the egg as a bargaining chip…

…_It belongs to those who are left: the Council, to guard and nurture until it is time for the hatching. Many years too late for me, my love… But surely, with a gift such as this, you can persuade them to give me your lifetime as a man to spend with me?…_

A plan… the dragon's description of a tropical island populated with gentle natives where they could live in peace and plenty… their departure to the cavern of the Dragon Council… the Council's acceptance… but an intruder, a tagalong, the man Dickon who was jealous of Summer's love… wanted the dragons' riches, wanted Summer to himself… stealing the egg from under the snouts of the Council…

…_How was I to know they thought it was a plot? How was I to know they thought she and him was in it too? I didn't mean no harm, honest!… the fires of Hell, I can feel them now… it wasn't my fault, it wasn't, I swear it!…_

Flames engulfing the cavern… the black dragon and Summer vanishing in a welter of fire… Dickon accursed, wandering, poor, dying fifteen years later with the cryptic last words…

…_But I did get something out of it! And now those dragons can search till Doomsday, God curse them and curse you all! Do with it what you will…_

The egg returned to the rich merchant, who sold it as a curiosity… passing through hundreds of hands until both the egg and Summer's ring ended up in the Ky-Lin's possession… his surrender of both artifacts to the Shadow… her appeal to sorcerers, witches, even the Jedi Council…

…_The hatchling is dying, surely you can sense it? Too many years of improper handling… I cannot save it alone, but if we merge our powers, surely we can sustain the life within until the time comes for its birth? This life is precious, can't you see? You cannot let a legend die…_

The greater magicians turning their backs on her one by one… the Jedi Council refusing on the grounds that the dragons were creatures of destruction, best left to myths… until one came forward, neither sorcerer nor Jedi, but offering to make a deal… a desperate Shadow finally accepting the bargain… Sidious, Maul, Shadow, and Ky-Lin departing Corusant amidst the turbulent winds that seemed to follow Shadow like an invisible private army…

…_We must act quickly, or it will be too late. This payment is yours – help me, and you will gain this creature as a servant. But be warned – if you fail to fulfill your end of the bargain, that which lies within this shell will return to destroy you…_

A slave woman who had lain in a diseased coma for nine months… Sith and sorceress working together to heal her… implanting memories of a pregnancy, then laying the dragon-child in her arms…

But it was no dragon that she awoke to claim as a son, no dragon that grew under the watchful eye of both sorceress and Sith, no dragon that a slightly renegade Jedi took under his wing, no dragon that eventually turned on the Jedi Order and became the most feared creature in the galaxy…

It was a human. A man.

The Chosen One.

I was the dragon.

_Break…_

"I think he's coming around…"

"Stand back a little, give him some space…"

"Okay, I can buy the whole ring biz, I can handle the phoenix and Ky-Lin popping up, but Darth Vader as a DRAGON! Come on, not even the FANFICS get this cracked!"

"Jessalyn Davidson, keep your voice down…"

All this buzzed senselessly in my ears as I dragged myself back to consciousness. My head swam with bizarre images and even stranger memories. The ring throbbed warmly on my hand, almost in tune with my heartbeat, seeming to welcome the images that flooded my mind…

"Father, are you all right?" asked Luke, extending a hand to help me up. Numbly I accepted the aid and pulled myself to my feet.

"You scared us," Ash told me. "You and the Shadow were scrying something, when you suddenly cried out…"

"Like a dying thing," Nightwind added with a shudder. "Then you fell. Wouldn't wake up…"

"Shadow told us everything," Tuck finished in a dazed tone. "Said we should know."

The Shadow stood off to the side, as if distancing herself from the others, her gloved hands steepled before her. Her eyes brimmed with an unfathomable sadness.

"It can't be…" I protested. "I can't be… I'm not…"

"In the ancient language, _anaka _meant _dragon's offspring,_" she replied evenly._ "Anakor _indicated said offspring was female, _anakin _male. _Anakin_ literally means _son of the dragon_. Your mother – the woman you call mother – must have known, on some level… at any rate, she was entrusted with your care, and she did very well. It was only later, when the Emperor laid his claim upon you… a claim he had every right to…"

"You…" A fire began stirring sluggishly in my gut. "You knew all this time… and you gave me to the Emperor… you let him use me… you…"

"Hate me, son of the dragon," she told me softly, diamond tears sliding down her face and beneath her veil. "Do not hate the Jedi any longer, nor Obi-wan, nor anyone else. If there is one worthy of your hate, it is I, and I alone. It is my immense foolishness that damned you to a life of misery at the hands of the Emperor." She lowered her head as if awaiting the executioner's blade.

The fire died, and I sank to my knees again. I had spent a lifetime hating. I had expended so much energy simply hating, raging, throwing fuel onto an ever-starving fire that had consumed everything I held dear. But now, my heart was numb, too numb to hate anymore. My emotional strength was completely spent.

"Why?" It seemed the only appropriate question.

"You were dying," she replied. "It was the only way. Your dragon body had been twisted and deformed, abused by rough handling and improper care. We had no knowledge of how to create a new dragon's body for you, so we created a body we had knowledge of – the human body. It had been my hope that, someday, we could restore you to your dragon form. But…" She spread her hands helplessly.

Luke's mouth hung open. "Then that makes me…"

"Quarter-dragon," she finished. "You and your sister. Not enough of the dragon blood to make you significantly different from the rest of humanity, but enough to grant you great power, though not to the extent your father has."

Jessa was shaking her head. "I still think this is way too trippy to be real."

"You say that," the Shadow retorted, though gently, "when the exact same thing has happened to you, albeit without the aid of magic." She let her silvery gaze slide over the cyborg-girl's mechanical body.

My head was still spinning. Whereas before I had professed to having no unanswered questions, now I had nothing but questions for the Shadow. I had to know more, I had to know…

"We will talk more in the morning," she said abruptly. "You have all had a difficult journey. Rest, and in the morning we shall discuss your quests. And more…"


	10. Man of Three Magics

_NOTE: The Shadow's quote (italicized) is a direct quote from the postscript of the book "Master of Many Treasures" by Mary Brown. I take no credit for it._

**Chapter IX – Man of Three Magics**

According to Tuck, who was a stickler for such things, we remained at the Shadow's home for ten days, though to me it seemed longer. There was something strangely elastic about time in the company of the sorceress, as if an hour could shrink to a millisecond or expand to a millennium whenever its whims desired. To me, those ten days seemed a year. To Nightwind, they seemed ten years, and to Ash, a breath. I wondered if it was the Force or the Shadow's magic, but she informed me that it was all in our minds.

"To one as young as the acklay, who has lived scarcely six months, days last forever. But to Ash, whose lifespan predates civilizations, days are but moments. Perspective, young one, perspective." She touched the corner of her eye with a gloved finger. "And in your case… well, time always seems to crawl by when you're not busy, no matter how old you are."

None of us ventured outside. Instead, the Shadow gave us free reign of her home and the adjacent garden. Her dwelling was nothing fancy, but to our travel-weary party it seemed a mansion brimming with luxury. We were fed, watered, had access to medical and bathing facilities – and above all, we were safe. The threat of attack or discovery, always a danger on the road, was absent here, and for once we could relax.

Everyone found their own means to occupy their time at the Shadow's. Fett spent a great deal of time in the gardens, completing endurance exercises and pushing his body as far as he could, often until he dropped from pure exhaustion. Luke and Tuck talked a lot, forming an unusual bond as they each discovered the perspective of a soldier on the opposite side of the war. Ash and Nightwind occupied equal portions of the Ky-Lin's time, the former discussing things of magic and philosophy, the latter engaging in play at every chance. Jessa mostly "hung out," as she called it, in the greenhouse, and whenever I ventured out there I could hear her singing one of her unusual Earth songs. (At one point I discovered her hanging upside-down from a tree limb by her legs, arms hanging loosely, seeing how fast she could sing "All-Star" without garbling the words. Pretty fast.)

I, meanwhile, spent my hours completing a journal.

"These rightfully belong to you," the Shadow told me the second day of our stay, handing me two thick tomes.

I examined the first book, which bore a richly embossed leather cover exhibiting the images of animals – dragons, unicorns, birds, cats, fish, toads, sea serpents, and more. Its pages were soft-edged and tan-yellow with age, and the Old Basic script was ornate but shaky, as if the hand penning the words had never held a writing instrument before. One crackling page at the beginning of the book bore a title – "The Journal of Fleur O'Connel, known to her friends as Thing."

"Your ancestor wrote her tale a few years after settling down, after her beloved knight taught her to read and write," the Shadow explained. "The original record crumbled to dust long ago, but not before I created a copy." She brushed a gentle finger along the text. "The script is hers. I was able to preserve that much. I have also added a few… relevant bits here and there."

"And the second book?" I inquired, setting the first aside. The second volume bore an equally fabulous cover, seeming almost alive with horses, bears, dogs, birds, tortoises, Ky-Lins, and a great black dragon dominating the image.

"Your mother's, Talitha-Summer's. Again, a copy, with my own additions where necessary. The original survives in the care of my master, the Ancient, but can only stand a few more handlings before it, too, falls to pieces."

I gazed at the pages, then shut the book. "I cannot accept this gift. My mother was Shmi Skywalker. Not this woman." The Shadow's story was still too much for me to digest. To know that the one I had called mother for so long was not my mother… to know I had a father after all, a father who was not even human… I could not accept that.

The Shadow's silver eyes softened. "Son of the dragon, Talitha-Summer carried you and gave birth to you. I cannot change that fact. But Shmi Skywalker raised you, tended you in your youth, thought of you as a son and loved you. In that way, she is also your mother."

I looked into her half-wild eyes. Her revelation left me torn. In the past few weeks the foundation of my life had been ruthlessly smashed piece by piece, and she had practically jerked the final fragment of that foundation out from under my feet when she had revealed that Shmi was not my mother. On the other hand, she had also provided me with a lifeline to cling to – the knowledge that I had a father. The feeling that knowledge produced wasn't hope, not exactly… more of a burning curiosity. Had Luke felt this very way when he had learned I was his father?

"What was my father's name?" I asked. "Or did dragons have names?"

"The Dragon Council called him He-Who-Beats-His-Wings-Against-the-Clouds-and-Lights-the-Sky-With-Fire, but that is only a ceremonial name and you could never pronounce it in their native tongue. He did have two shorter names – his dragon name, Master of Many Treasures, and his human name, Jasper."

Master of Many Treasures… Jasper… the dragon-man…

"Read the journals," she encouraged, tapping the image of the Ky-Lin that pranced across the cover of the second volume. "They will answer your questions better than I can. Perhaps they will also inspire you to record your own memories."

She was correct, and by the end of our stay I had filled one volume with the story of my life and begun a second. The first volume ended shortly before the discovery of the ring, and the second…

At the moment, it ended with our arrival at the Shadow's, for there were many things I could not bring myself to think about yet, let alone write.

Every day for the first seven days of our stay, the Shadow led one of us into the gardens for a discussion. For that period of time, the rest of us were restricted to the house until the interview was over. Nightwind was the first.

"Strange lady," he remarked when he emerged half an hour later.

"Well, we knew that already," Luke said with a laugh. "Why, what'd she say?"

He cocked his head at a puzzled angle. "Asked me what I wanted. Told her. Then asked what I remembered of my homeworld."

"And you said…" prompted Ash.

"Feelings, mostly. Images. Mother, father, aunts, uncles, brothers, sisters, pack. Play, wrestle, food, water, cool, dark, den…" His eyes grew distant a moment, then he shook his head as if to shoo away insects. "Asked me if I thought a human master could replace all that."

"And you said…" repeated Ash.

"Nothing. Couldn't think of anything to say. Shadow says we can go back in now."

The next day, the Shadow visited with Tuck.

"She's a funny lady all right," Tuck said at the end of his interview. "And she doesn't seem to know a whole lot about clones."

"What makes you say that?" I asked.

"I told her what I wanted and gave my reasoning – that we are exact duplicates in mind and body, and that any difference, no matter how small, sets us apart and makes us inferior to the rest. She proceeded to ask me if those who created the clones could guarantee that they would face the same trials, live through the same experiences, and emerge from said trials and experiences having gained the same memories and wisdom. If they ensured that all clones suffered the same injuries and bore the same scars. And she asked, if all of us were the same, why did we still have ranks and specialties and officers among us?"

Luke rolled his eyes. "Is she trying to talk us all out of what we came to her for?"

"Hey, she's a sorceress," Jessa retorted. "She might have her own agenda to look after."

That was not reassuring in the least.

Ash was next.

"The flippant, disrespectful, insensitive child," she grumbled after the visit, landing tersely on the back of a chair and ruffling her feathers angrily.

"What did she do?" asked Fett, looking up from completing a stretch.

"She is young, comparatively speaking," Ash went on. "She can't know what I've been through, how weary I've grown of living… instead she tells me that she could explore this galaxy for a thousand years and never grow tired of it. And she tells me that I can't be tired of living or I never would have joined your fellowship, and that I need to be reminded of my duties. Ha! Give her a few hundred thousand years more, and see if her tune changes…"

"Reminded of your duties?" asked Tuck.

"Never mind." And that is all we got out of her about that subject.

The fourth day, Fett went before the Shadow. What went on in there I never found out, for he refused to divulge it when he exited the greenhouse. Nightwind later told me he had overheard Fett muttering something about "the Mandalorian ways have died out, no use digging them up now, and who is she to think my father would have wanted it that way?"

Jessa was next, and she was a bit more forthcoming.

"Didn't say much to me," she reported. "I did a lot of the talking. When I finally got done telling her my life story, she just said 'People move on, Jessa. Believe it or not, your mother and father will move on after your brother's death. And they will move on after your disappearance. It may take years, but they will go on with their lives. The question is, are you willing to move on?'"

"What is she trying to pull?" asked Tuck. "It's as if, rather than helping us, she's trying to convince us to change our minds."

The sixth day, Luke went before the sorceress. His visit was much the same.

"I asked her what she could do to keep you safe," he told me. "She replied that it was up to you. She also said your fate wasn't my concern, that other matters depended on me."

"What did she mean?" asked Ash.

"I know good and well what she meant," Luke replied, looking stubborn. "The Jedi Order. I told her I have no intention of beginning a new Order…"

"Luke!" I exclaimed, shocked. "The galaxy almost destroyed itself the first time the Order dissolved! If you do nothing to restore the Order…"

"What kind of Order forbids one to use his heart?" demanded Luke. "What kind of Order would rather adhere to some ancient tradition than help another that's in pain and need? If they had helped you save Mother, maybe you wouldn't have turned. And if they expect me to abandon my friends and family to become a Jedi… I can't do it. I'm sorry, but my heart's too valuable to turn my back on."

Oh my son. I could not argue with him – his accusation was perfectly correct. _There is no emotion; there is peace… _how could one deny another the right to feel, to love, to fear – the right to be human? How could one be expected to serve the galaxy as a guardian of justice, yet not be allowed to feel for those people?

At last, the day came when it was my turn to talk to the Shadow – a long-overdue discussion in my mind.

"Welcome, son of the dragon," she told me as I entered the gardens. "Have a seat anywhere you'd like. On a rock, in the grass, in a tree, wherever suits you."

The Shadow's gardens were thick and wild, nothing like the orderly botanical sanctuaries of more civilized worlds I was accustomed to. It seemed that the Shadow did absolutely nothing to organize or trim the plants and let them grow any way they pleased, so that the bushes and trees looked oddly feral and the flowers didn't grow in beds but thrust their colorful heads from the grass everywhere like errant children. There were no paths, no benches, no plaques identifying specific trees as memorials to the deceased, no sign of civilization.

Strangely enough, I liked it.

I lowered myself to the grass, and the Shadow did likewise, crossing her legs and resting a hand upon each knee. We gazed at each other for a very long time.

"So," she said at last, "how's the journal?"

"That depends," I replied. "Are you referring to reading the journals you gave me, or writing my own?"

"Reading," she clarified.

"I finished long ago," I told her.

"Oh good," she replied. "Any questions?"

I began to say no, then remembered. "The postscript you added to the end of Talitha's journal. It mentioned something about…"

The Shadow raised a hand to silence me. "It describes an island discovered almost two hundred years ago, as well as a legend regarding a dragon. Of the legend it says, and I quote: _'There were two points of consistency, otherwise the tale had obviously changed with the years and recollection. The points of agreement were that one day in the distant past a great black dragon, sore wounded, had arrived in the skies from the northeast bearing a burden. It had circled the island three times before alighting somewhere in the hills to the north. The other point of agreement was that the creature eventually left in the same direction, after circling the island in the same fashion._

"'_Between these two 'facts,' there were two different versions of events. The first had it that the dragon laid waste to the forests of the island till the air was black with the fires, then he buried whatever he carried in a cave high in the mountains before flying away again._

"' _The other version had the dragon again alighting in the mountains with his burden and three days later a man and a woman, both badly injured, coming down to dwell among the islanders. This story would have it that the pair recovered and lived for many years at peace, the woman communing with the beasts of the field, the man a master of weather. In the fullness of time the woman died, and the man bore her body up into the hills and buried it, then the great dragon appeared again and flew away, sorrowing…'"_

She looked at me, then chuckled at my stunned silence. "Yes, I remember what I wrote, young one. Now, you understand that passage, don't you?"

All too well, for it hinted at two possible fates for Jasper and Talitha. The first version would have Talitha dying at the hands of the Dragon Council, and Jasper burying her body after a fit of grief. The other would have the two of them recovering from the attack, spending the remainder of her life together as they had dreamed of doing, then Jasper mourning her natural death.

"Which version is correct?" I asked.

"I do not know," she confessed. "I was not there. When I went back to research the story, the tale had already split into two. There is no way to verify which is the right and which the wrong."

I shook my head, unaccepting. There had to be a way. There must be a way. I had to know…

"I suspect you've had a change in your desires?" she asked.

"Yes," I replied. "I want to know of my parents. How did they die? When did they die? What has become of the Dragon Council that turned against them? And what of this supposed deal with Palpatine? What exactly did you promise him?"

She plucked a blade of grass and rolled it between her fingers. "I do not know whether your mother perished at the hands of the Dragon Council, or whether she died of natural causes. Only your father knows that… and he is still alive."

That caught my interest. "He is?"

"Dragons live hundreds of years. He is old and frail now, but yes, he is alive. He lives in exile far from the land of the dragons, for the Council would not have him among them after the egg fiasco." She shook her head. "Fools… refused to accept him… and now they are long dead, their inability to forgive leaving them without a young, strong member to continue the ways…"

"Then the Council is dead?"

"Their flesh became dust and their bones stone centuries ago."

"Then Jasper and I are the last…"

"Far from it. Jasper was not the first dragon to be exiled. There are others scattered throughout the galaxy, offspring of other outcasts, wild and lonely, without a leader… but they thrive all the same, though they tend to keep out of sight."

So Jasper lived. I had to find him. There was much I wanted to ask of him.

"You made a bargain with Palpatine," I told her. "What sort of bargain?"

She closed her eyes as if in pain. "If he helped me preserve your life and transfer your soul to a healthy body, then he could claim you as a servant when he judged fit – on the condition that, once you had performed whatever service he required, he tell you of your past and pass on your mother's ring."

The unicorn ring pulsed as it was mentioned. I stared at it with new respect. It was more than a fragment of a long-dead beast – it was an heirloom, part of my heritage.

"But he made a grave error," she went on, opening her eyes, which were now filled with a vindictive joy. "He thought he could renege on the bargain. He thought my caution was a vain one." She shook her head, eyes still gleaming. "He can't say he wasn't warned, can he? My warning was clear – if he broke his end of the agreement or mistreated you in any way, you would turn against him. No, he thought he was smarter than I. He thought he could get away with using you, with hiding your heritage from you, with attempting to claim the ring and its magic as his own. Oh, how I wish I could have seen his frustration when he tried to ram the ring onto his own fingers, only to find it too small every time…

"And I can only imagine his stupid shock when his servant suddenly turned on him, enraged and desperate to save his son, armed not only with the power of the Force, but with the power of the dragon… and a ring that had lain in the presence of two powerful Sith all this time, a ring whose powers had not faded with time, but that had absorbed energy for forty years and endowed you with far more power than even Fleur-Thing and Talitha-Summer knew."

"Power of the dragon?" I repeated, puzzled.

"Many types of power and magic exist, son of the dragon," she told me. "Only a very few of the most talented magicians – and certainly not me – can wield all of them. Most creatures have no understanding of them, or at most a very little. Some can use one type of power, like Tuck. A select few have access to two, like your son. You are privileged, young one, to claim the right to use three types of power… the power of the Force, the power of the dragon, and the power of the ring. You are a man of three heritages and, thus, a man of three magics. That, and that alone, marks you as the Chosen One."

"That's impossible…"

"Human creates," she told me, reaching out and touching the front of my helmet with her fingertips. "Dragon destroys." She placed a palm over my heart. "Unicorn heals." Her hand rested on mine, covering the ring. "The legacy of the Chosen One. You created in the form of your children and you relationships with others… you destroyed in the form of the Jedi Purge and the Galactic Civil War… and you healed in destroying the Emperor. If the Jedi had stopped to study their own prophecy a little closer, they might have been very surprised."

"But I have never used the power of the dragon…"

"You have touched it, you have even tapped into it a little in times of great emotional distress, but you have not utilized it to its full extent. The power of the dragon is what drove you to avenge Shmi Skywalker's death, what drove you to lead an army against the Jedi Temple, what drove you to overthrow your master once and for all. You have used it to great effect each time. And if you were ever to unleash its full potential, the mightiest army would tremble in fear."

I could not help a shudder. If the power of the dragon was this deadly, I wanted no part of it…

"But the power of the dragon can be used for much good as well," she replied. "Your father helped your mother many times with his power, remember. You can use your power to aid your friends if your heart is in the correct place."

I twisted the ring a half turn, feeling its pulse as if it contained a tiny heart of its own. "I want to speak to my father. And I want to know what happened to my mother. I know she is dead… but I must know how she died."

She arched an eyebrow. "That is all you desire? Are you certain?"

"Will you never be satisfied?" My anger began to rise again. "The others say you played this very game with them…"

"I play no games…"

"Trying to talk them out of what they came to you for in the first place…"

"It is always hard to hear what you don't want to hear…"

"Or are you stalling, knowing you cannot give them what they want…"

"I'm only providing guidance…"

"They need no guidance! They know what they want!"

"They THINK they know!" she screamed, eyes flashing like silver lightning. The wind outside the greenhouse battered against the transparisteel panes like a wild animal trying to break in.

"Sorry," she said quietly. "Lost my temper." She clasped her hands in her lap. "Young one, I cannot solve anyone's problems. I can provide a solution, but it is up to them to take advantage of it. A doctor can prescribe medication, but it does no good unless the patient makes a conscious decision to repair his condition and take the medicine. Likewise, it is pointless to fulfill anyone's wish unless I am absolutely certain that is truly what they want. How many times have you gotten something you wished for… and thought better of it when it was too late?"

I felt my stomach twist. Her words hit home…

"We're done talking," she told me. "You may go."

Of the others, I only entrusted Luke with what had gone on between the Shadow and I, for it concerned his heritage as well as mine. He said nothing for the longest time, taking time to digest the weighty information I gave him.

"I wonder how much of this Obi-wan knew," he said at last.

"I think," I replied, "that was part of the Jedi Order's problem. They had no idea how to handle a dragon-man, let alone a Chosen One. Their mistake was in trying to alter the dragon to fit their rules, rather than altering their rules to fit the dragon."

"They were Jedi," Luke replied. "Altering the rules would have popped an artery."

"You are too young to be so cynical," I chided.

_Break…_

The last few days of our stay were spent in preparation. The Shadow set us all to packing supplies and charting hyperspace routes. Bewildered, we complied, not questioning but waiting for an explanation.

"Let's just say I'm sending you on a quest," she told us. "A journey of self-discovery. A binding, if you will."

"What the hell is she talking about?" muttered Fett.

"The first wearer of the ring and her company had to embark on a quest in order to bind them more closely to face a greater trial," I explained. "Though in reality it was seven separate quests – one for each member of the company."

"He's right," the Shadow replied. "Though this journey is more than a binding. It will hopefully answer questions and help you better understand what you want and why."

"Seven quests?" repeated Nightwind. "We just got done with a quest!"

"Then consider this a great adventure!" the Shadow exclaimed, patting the acklay's shoulder. "The Ky-Lin will escort you to a waiting ship on the edge of the plain. You will program the hyperspace route Luke and Fett have so helpfully drawn up into the computer and follow that path. As for the quests… the ring will help you identify them."

So I would be leading this journey. Again. Did this never end? I was tired of being the leader, the commander, the one to make all the decisions…

"A word, young one," the Shadow told me, drawing me aside.

"Shadow, are you sure about this?" I asked. "Sending us off on such an escapade when we have just barely recovered from our journey here?"

"Young one," she told me, "I am trusting you to take care of the others. You wear the ring; that is a great privilege, but a great responsibility as well. Your mother and many-times-great grandmother took it on and did well. I have faith that you will do as well as they."

"You place too much faith in one who has failed so many times," I replied.

She rolled her eyes. "If Yoda had just agreed to help me all those years ago, I could have dealt with a halfway convincible young man. As it is, I have to put up with a world-weary cynic."

"Then Yoda knew of my heritage?"

She snorted. "Why do you think he was so reluctant to train you?"

"Perhaps he was not entirely in the wrong."

"Oh, stop beating yourself up," she chided, slapping my shoulder. "Go on and complete your quests. I'll be waiting for you at the end of the trip. Take care of each other."

That last caution – to take care of each other – would serve us well on what would eventually prove to be one of the craziest adventures any group of travelers had ever embarked upon.


	11. Phoenix: A Cloak of Illusion

**Chapter X – Phoenix: A Cloak of Illusion**

The Ky-Lin had to be the strangest creature I had ever encountered, which was certainly saying something. I say this not based on his physical appearance (not to say that was not strange in itself), but on other factors. He talked almost nonstop during our trek, though little of the information he offered was vital in any way. And it seemed that he was physically incapable of traveling in a straight line – he would take a jump in one direction, then turn sharply and bolt in another, taking a crazy zigzag path as he trotted. When asked, he told us the reason for this erratic path was his personal creed to not injure any living thing. Whenever he came across an insect or a patch of vegetation, no matter how small, he immediately changed course to eliminate the slightest possibility of trampling it. Strange in my mind, but then, the humans of our galaxy probably believed things he thought outlandish.

"We're not going to be traveling for days again, are we?" complained Luke, tugging on Nightwind's lead to urge him on his way.

"Not at all, Luke," Ky-Lin replied. "We're going in a different direction than the one you came from. We should reach the ship before dusk."

There was silence for a time, then Tuck spoke up.

"The Shadow said Vader's real name – Anakin – meant 'son of the dragon.' Does Luke's name have any special meaning?"

"Not that I know of," Luke replied.

"'Bringer of light,'" Jessa volunteered. "At least, that's what it means on our planet."

I nodded. Appropriate. Luke had indeed brought light back to the galaxy… and into my own life. The question was whether he would continue to bear that light, and what form that light would take in the end. Would it be the light of the Jedi? Or another sort of light entirely?

"What about my name?" asked Tuck.

"Dunno. Have to look it up when I go back home."

"Does your name have a meaning, Jessa?" I asked, intrigued.

"Jessalyn means 'blessed with wealth and beauty.'" She gave a disdainful snort. "Joke if I ever heard one. Do I look rich and beautiful to anyone?"

"Beauty and wealth are in the eye of the beholder," the Ky-Lin said sagely.

Fett glared at the rainbow creature. "How does the Shadow put up with you anyhow? Your self-righteousness and proverb-spouting would drive me up the wall in a day."

"I only began serving the Shadow very recently," the Ky-Lin replied. "Of course, 'very recently' to us immortals means 'within the last fifty years' to the rest of you. When Summer – excuse me – Talitha and Jasper departed to go before the Dragon Council, she entrusted me with her ring. And centuries later, I discovered the egg and decided to turn it and the ring over to the first magician I could find. It was providential that the first magician I encountered was the Shadow."

"Why not find a stronger magician?" asked Ash. "Why not wait until you met one who could restore Anakin to his proper dragon form, rather than trap him in a human form?"

"Because the Shadow insisted she be the one." He halted in his tracks and gave me a searching look. "She felt she owed you a debt, Anakin. Her father was Dickon, after all."

His statement, so calm and matter-of-fact, hit me like a blow to the head. Dickon, the man whose actions had quite probably destroyed Talitha… was the Shadow's father?

"The Shadow was once mortal," he went on, oblivious to my shock. "She was the product of a… liaison between Dickon and a prostitute. Her mother died giving birth to her, and the midwife who normally tended to the brothel's needs took pity on her and raised her, intending to train her in her arts. But the Shadow had greater ambitions, and when she was eight years old she ran away and was taken in by the Ancient, one of the great wizards of her world. It was he that informed her of her father's crimes, and when the egg fell into her hands, she decided it was a chance for her bloodline to make peace with yours."

I looked at Nightwind's pack, where the journals of Fleur and Talitha were carefully stowed away. So it had come full circle. A conceited fool had acted rashly and unleashed the wrath of the dragons upon an innocent woman… and centuries later his daughter sought to correct the damage and aid the woman's son. I was not merely the Shadow's current sympathy case. Her intentions were very personal.

It was strange… so many events were transpiring, events that, a mere month ago, I had had no inkling of. They were an integral part of my life all along, but they had operated out of my sight. It was as if someone had instructed an artist to paint a masterpiece, and he had prepared his tools and turned to the canvas, only to find the painting nearly completed already.

I wondered just how this painting would be finished.

At last we approached the ship. It was a nondescript freighter, nothing fancy but in good working order. The paint was a slightly faded green, and across the bow a single symbol had been applied in dark blue – the numeral 1.

"The first ship," the Ky-Lin explained, coming to a halt before the freighter. "It will take you as far as your first stop. From there, you will travel aboard a space liner until you accomplish your first quest. Only then will you come across your second ship… and the path to your second quest." He smiled at each member of the group in turn. "I have to wonder which of you will be the first."

"First to what?" asked Nightwind.

"Why, the first to accomplish his quest! Remember what the Shadow said?"

"Joy," Jessa said unenthusiastically. "Hope it's not me that's first, though knowing my luck…"

"Oh, and Anakin." The Ky-Lin cocked his head. "Reach behind my ear just so… behind the mane…"

Something had been strapped there, concealed by the glittering ruff about his jaws. I pulled it free and examined it. How in the galaxy… I hadn't seen this since Bespin…

"Where did you get this?"

"The Shadow has ways of securing what she wants," the Ky-Lin replied, nodding at the lightsaber. "She thought you might appreciate your old Jedi weapon more than your Sith weapon. I would encourage you to use it wisely, however – violence should always be a last resort."

I clipped the saber to my belt. "Thank you."

"Not a problem. And now, farewell." And he was off in a burst of color, taking his peculiar twisting path back to his mistress' abode.

_Break…_

Our first stop – Corusant.

Oddly enough, the fall of the Empire, which seemed to have caused chaos, if not total anarchy, on so many worlds seemed not to have affected the capitol world much. It was still the same crowded, cluttered, busy, flashy, dirty planet that I had spent much of my life on. Traffic still clogged the airways, citizenry still packed the walkways, great skyscrapers still competed for space. It was ever-changing as new layers of city covered its face repeatedly, yet strangely unchanging through the reigns of Old Republic, Empire, and Alliance. Love it or hate it, call it the center of civilization or the great cesspit of the galaxy, it was ugly, it was beautiful… and it was where our hyperdrive took us.

"Okay, now what?" asked Tuck as I docked the freighter.

"She said we were to take a space liner from here," Luke replied.

"Problem," Fett growled. "You two have prices on your heads." He gestured at Luke and me. "And I doubt a stormtrooper will be welcome out there."

He was correct. While flying over the cityscape, I had not seen a singe Imperial soldier, and normally their white armor was a common sight on the streets.

"Look through the packs," Ash suggested, suiting actions to words by picking open a bag with her beak. "Remember, we packed changes of clothing. Fett and Tuck can disguise themselves simply by wearing something other than their customary armor. Luke can hide his features by wearing a hat and scarf. Jessa should be fine as she is – droids of all kinds are a customary sight here."

"What about Darth?" asked Jessa.

"He wears the ring."

"What does that have to do with anything?" asked Tuck.

"That is up to him."

I stared down at the ring, now a dormant circle of ivory. The Shadow told me it had grown quite powerful in the possession of the Emperor. Perhaps I had not yet utilized it to its full potential.

"Someone go down to the hold and get Nightwind," I told her. "I will secure passage on a liner."

"Are you sure you'll be okay?" asked Luke.

"Do not worry about me," I told him with an assuredness I certainly did not feel. "I can look after myself."

And with that, I disembarked and made my way to the ticket kiosk, where a bored-looking Twi'lek man and a nervous human female waited. As I approached I drew on the Force, feeling it entwine with the power of the ring and enfold me like a cloak… a cloak of illusion. They could not see me as a Sith, they had to see me as just another prospective traveler, just another man…

"Whaddaya want?" grunted the Twi'lek, not even looking up.

"Seven tickets aboard the next liner," I replied.

"Destination?"

"No preference. Whatever departs the soonest."

The young woman's eyes grew wide. For a moment I wondered if she had somehow seen past the ring's power, but her gaze was fixed on a point behind me. When I turned, I saw Tuck leading Nightwind down the street toward us as casually as if he were a pet dog, the acklay following docilely. Passers-by stared nervously at the creature, no doubt wondering why such a beast was not chained or caged.

"I count five of you," the Twi'lek replied dully. "Plus cargo space for the critter." He pointed at Ash, who perched on Fett's shoulder. "Your bird'll have to be caged before we can let it aboard – cost of the cage'll be added to your tab." He punched something into his computer. "That'll be twenty-five hundred."

"That's ridiculous!" countered Luke, his voice muffled behind the scarf.

"Just pay it," Fett snarled. "Let's get out of here." He was incredibly unhappy with having to go maskless, though it was vital that no one draw more attention than necessary on this journey.

I counted out the credits and handed them over. He passed us datachips granting us space aboard the next liner, bound for Almania. A trip to an exotic-pet store to purchase feed for Nightwind, and we were ready.

No one paid the human members of our company so much as a second glance, a good sign. Nightwind garnered the most attention as he was loaded in the cargo hold – he was a visually striking creature, and the fact that we had such a reportedly ferocious beast confined by no more than a tether seemed incredible to most. Ash also received her share of attention, being rather unusual in appearance even for a bird. And Jessa received a few odd glances as well.

"What kinda droid's that?" demanded a spice miner boarding just behind us.

"Watch it, pal," growled Jessa, clenching her claws into a fist.

"Ooh-hoo, droid with an attitude," the spice miner's friend chuckled. He clapped a hand on my shoulder. "My advice, pal? Get a restraining bolt. No one should have to put up with lip from his droid."

"I'll give you more than lip, you…" Jessa snarled.

"Enough," I ordered her. "On the ship."

The liner was divided into two classes. First class was for wealthy vacationers and powerful citizens, and was appropriately opulent. Second class, our destination, was far less – it was little more than an extra cargo bay with seats bolted into the floor here and there. Migrant workers, refugees, miners, lower-class families, and others crowded the space, some traveling with little more than the worn clothes on their backs. Cargo that wouldn't fit into the regular cargo bay had overflowed into the second-class area, and some of the less savory passengers saw fit to rifle through the luggage of the first-class passengers and help themselves. There seemed to be an unspoken rule to not touch the possessions of other second-classers, but just to be on the safe side, we located our supplies and positioned ourselves close by to guard against theft.

Luke had a seat beside me. "I wonder what they would think if they knew Darth Vader was riding with them."

"They would not think, they would panic," I replied. "It feels strange to be this exposed before them, even if the ring guards against my discovery."

Jessa was singing again, a soft haunting tune regarding a unicorn… the "last unicorn." I found it oddly appropriate for our journey, for it was the power of the unicorn that bound us and led us forward. I wondered if it had been the last of the unicorns that had perished to form the ring, or if there were others…

Luke sighed and leaned back against a nearby crate. "This is all so incredible. When I went with you to face the Emperor… I had no idea this would come of it. Not that I regret it. I do miss my friends with the Alliance, but to have this… this time with you… finally learning about my father after all this time… and learning who my father really is…" His blue eyes seemed oddly sad now. "Owen never wanted to talk about my father. Obi-wan just told me you were dead. It always seemed that no one wanted to tell me the truth. And now that I have the truth… now that I have you…" He shook his head. "I'm not sure I'm making a whole lot of sense…"

"You have sought all your life for a father figure," I replied. "And now that you have found it, you are quite surprised that you found much more than you bargained for."

"I guess that's it."

"Would it help if I told you I feel the same way?"

"What do you mean?"

"My own father. As far back as I can remember, there was no father in my life. I just had my mother… Shmi Skywalker. I loved her, but a growing boy needs a male role model in his life. I suppose that is why I latched onto Qui-gon Jinn so quickly. He filled that void in my life. And I suppose that is why I resented it when Obi-wan had no desire to forge that sort of bond with me. He wanted a Master-Padawan relationship, not a father-son relationship. And that may also be why I accepted the Emperor so quickly when he extended that sort of relationship, never dreaming that he merely used my longing for a father figure to manipulate me." I leaned back. "When the Shadow revealed that I had a father – but a father who was not even human, but a beast of magic – it quite surprised me."

"Makes sense to me," Jessa piped up. "The whole fathered-by-the-midichlorians deal seemed like a cop-out by Lucas to me. The dragon angle was weird at first, but I like it better."

"You're a hopeless snoop, you know that?" Luke inquired, arching an eyebrow.

"And proud of it!" she said with a smile in her voice. She winked at Luke, then turned away and broke into song once again. "Country roooooaaaads, take me hoooooooooome to the plaaaaaaaaaaace I belooooooong, West Virginiaaaaaaaa…" Her serenading drew a lot of stares, and I could only hope that the novelty of a singing droid in our party would not attract too much attention.

Luke arranged his jacket to make sure his lightsaber was properly concealed. "Do you think you'll meet your father someday?"

"I am not sure. Though I would be lying if I did not admit I hope our journey takes us to him."

Days passed. The freighter did not take a straight path to Almania but made detours to Empress Teta, Chandrila, and other worlds to pick up and drop off passengers. The two miners that had harassed Jessa departed on Raxus, replaced by a large family that encompassed four generations, from the elderly matriarch who seated herself in her hoverchair as if it were a throne to the weeks-old infant that filled the hold with its cries. Also joining us were students on their way to Ansion to study the alien life there, priests from some obscure religion on a missionary journey, an arms dealer who guarded his cargo quite jealously, and an exotic-bird breeder who was quite taken with Ash and offered Fett a million credits for her. Amazingly, he turned down her offer, though I am certain he was tempted.

For a time we sank into a state of complacency, mingling with the other passengers, exchanging travel tales to an extent, even sharing meals with them. The days seemed to merge together, spent mostly in napping or conversing with the others, interrupted only by my trips into the 'fresher to tend to my medical needs and into the cargo hold to check on Nightwind. I began to wonder if we had somehow taken the wrong path, that we had missed our quest entirely.

I need not have worried. Our quest found us.

The ship lurched to a halt one day, causing everyone to buzz with speculation. Minutes later, panic ensued as the ship was boarded… by stormtroopers.

The troops were quick and thorough, herding us together like animals, having no qualms about pushing and prodding those who moved too slowly for their tastes. Most of the passengers were too shocked to protest or even to offer token resistance. Our own party was broken up and scattered in the rush, and I found myself surrounded by the terrified students, one young woman sobbing in terror and clutching at my arm. Fett looked stunned, having been pushed into the large family and the squalling baby thrust into his arms. Luke clutched Ash's cage in his arms and was garnering covetous looks from the bird-breeder, while Tuck looked uncomfortable in the center of the priests.

Before I could gather my scattered wits enough to worry, the commanding officer stepped forward. Unlike his comrades, he was an enlisted officer rather than a clone, and his manner suggested that he found it beneath himself to be addressing us.

"All right, listen up, you pathetic spice grubs," he sneered. "Here's the deal – the governor of Kruvex IV is hosting the wedding of his daughter in two weeks' time. His hired entertainment for the evening has backed out, and at this date it's too late to search for a paid replacement. That leaves you worthless scum, and we're not leaving this ship until someone steps forward who can replace them." His disdainful gaze swept those gathered. "Does someone aboard this flying heap of scrap metal sing, or perform, or otherwise know how to entertain a young bride-to-be? And you can drop that sort of thought, you pervert," he barked at a student who had given a ribald snigger at the officer's choice of words. "Come on, step forward, or we start shooting people!"

I had to wonder at the gall of whatever Imperial warlord had ordered this. The Empire was in tatters, and he was hosting a gala? Perhaps he was just in denial. During the Republic's transition into the New Order, senators and other Republic officials had done just this, throwing elaborate banquets and masquerades, feasting and laughing and pretending that there was no tomorrow, that their impending doom would never come…

"Them's got a droid that sings!" a gas prospector piped up, pointing at me. "An' some kinda fancy bird I never seen 'fore, an' an acklay too! Some kinda circus act…"

"Aw crap," Jessa hissed, ducking behind the hulk of the arms dealer.

"A singing droid, eh?" The officer marched forward and pulled Jessa away from her hiding place. "Odd make of droid… but a singing droid… something different might appeal to the governor…" He stared at me now. "Where'd you get this droid?"

I opened my mouth to speak… but it was the ring that provided an answer and spoke through my lips. "My sons and I were once employed by the Royal Naboo Circus as animal trainers. When the circus went bankrupt, the owner could not afford to give us severance packages, so instead he divided the attractions and creatures of the circus between the performers and other workers. As we had had the most to do with the acklay and the bird, we received them. The droid was thrown in for good measure." Jessa would not forgive me for that comment, I knew, but we hadn't time to worry about that. "We are on our way to Almania in hopes of beginning our own show."

The officer gave a sharp nod. "Very well. I'll need to see ownership papers for the bird and acklay, but that can wait until we get to Kruvex. All right, you and your sons follow us." And before any of us could protest, his men had taken Ash's cage from Luke and ordering us out.

"Um… is this a good idea?" asked Tuck, slipping in beside me.

No, it was not a good idea at all. But the ring prevented me from stating that. It pulsed approvingly, and I wondered what awaited us on Kruvex IV.

_Break…_

Governor Laman of Kruvex IV was an imposing figure, seeming younger than his fifty-two years. His jet-black hair was just beginning to go gray at the temples, and his features were only faintly lined with age and stress. Still athletic and handsome, he nevertheless had hard green eyes and grim features, as if something dissatisfied him.

At his side stood his daughter, Tyra, seventeen years old and as shy and soft-featured as her father was confident and stone-faced. Lovely and as dark-haired as her father, she wore a sequined green gown that matched her eyes and a string of emeralds about her throat that could have ransomed an entire star system. Like her father, she seemed preoccupied and discontented; unlike her father, though, she looked ready to break down into tears at any moment over whatever bothered her.

It felt odd standing before the governor as a subordinate rather than a superior. If he had realized who was in the room with him, he might have had quite a shock. Or he might have gloated over the situation.

"The papers check out," he said at last, handing back the ownership papers Fett had discovered in our supplies – I would have to thank the Shadow for that bit of foresight. "What did you say your name was?"

I decided to risk giving my real name. "Anakin Skywalker."

"Interesting. Any relation to the Rebel?"

"If so, it is distant."

"And your sons' names?"

Jessa had taken it upon herself to give Luke and Fett aliases, and I had a feeling she had had a great deal of fun at their expense. "Their names are Tuck, Eragon, and Albus."

Governor Laman nodded. "Animal acts are not what I had in mind at my daughter's wedding, but my men tell me you have an extraordinary amount of control over your beasts. It is the singing droid that piques my interest – however was she programmed?"

"I haven't the slightest idea," I replied. "She came that way." At least that was the truth. I just hoped no one paid too close of attention to her eyes. There was no way her organic eyes could be mistaken for photoreceptors…

"We shall give you a trial run," he replied. "You will perform for us tonight, at the rehearsal dinner. If we are satisfied, then you will perform again at the wedding of my daughter Tyra and be well paid for your trouble. Otherwise, you will depart on the next liner for Almania."

"Thank you, Governor," I replied, giving a respectful bow. "And good luck to the bride."

She blushed furiously at the attention.

The others were waiting for me in the speeder garage that had been hastily converted into a stall for Nightwind. They looked at me expectantly.

"We are to give a performance tonight at the rehearsal dinner," I informed them.

Groans met this statement.

"We're not performers!" Fett exclaimed, throwing up his arms. "Why did you give them that story in the first place?"

"At ease, hunter," Ash replied, hopping down from Nightwind's back to land on the durasteel floor. "It will not be difficult to give the governor what he wants. A little acting and planning on our parts…"

The phoenix seemed to have taken charge of the situation, and I was more than happy to let her. We all listened attentively as she explained what we would need.

"We will have to devise a repoitare of tricks for myself and the acklay," she went on, "and hand signals corresponding to the tricks – no good can come of him discovering you wear the ring. Unfortunate that we have no band… Jessa, can you perform a cappella?"

"Won't have to." She uncurled her claws to reveal a small electronic device. "I have something from home. Dalzor filched it off my body when he turned me into a cyborg, and I stole it back when his lab blew up."

"What is it?" asked Luke.

"An MP3 player. I have thousands of song accompaniments on here. All I need is some way to plug it into a sound system."

"Very good and quite fortunate," Ash replied. "Lastly, does anyone here sew?"

"Sew?" repeated Tuck, confused.

Fett, of all people, raised his hand. "On occasion I have had to put together my own disguises when none have been handy."

"Good. Now I need someone to ask transport to the nearest town and purchase some flashy fabric. Circus performers need costumes, don't they?" She thought a moment, head to one side. "One more thing – when we go before the governor, I would ask that you don't mention that I talk."

She did not have to worry. I had no intention of mentioning that fact.

Tuck volunteered to go to town and departed, and the rest of us set about choreographing the performance while he was gone. I certainly hoped Ash knew what she was doing – she had been wrong before, and that had proven disastrous. All we could do was have faith.


	12. Phoenix: Star Crossed Lovers

**Chapter XI – Phoenix: Star-Crossed Lovers**

We had arrived on Kruvex approximately midmorning planetary time, and by the time we had completed our preparations it was nearly dusk. A stormtrooper was sent to the garage to inform us that the rehearsal dinner would begin in fifteen minutes and that Governor Laman expected our presence.

"We will be there," I informed him.

The trooper's gaze moved to Tuck. "If you need anything before the show, let me know – or any of the stormtroopers. We brothers have to stick together, you know."

Tuck's jaw dropped. "How did you know…"

"How could I not know?" the trooper chuckled. He saluted. "I don't know what you're doing out of uniform, brother, but whatever you're trying to accomplish here on Kruvex, I wish you luck." And he spun on his heel and strode away.

Tuck gaped after him, then shook his head and looked away. "He doesn't know. If he knew, he wouldn't be nearly so open…"

"Oh, cheer up, you grouch," Jessa complained. "Fett, you about done with those outfits?"

"Done," he replied, tossing the last of the cloth away. Tuck had managed to find a great deal of inexpensive but eye-catching fabric, blue interwoven with silver, and from this Fett had quickly stitched vests and trousers for himself, Luke, and Tuck and a cloak for Jessa.

Ash eyed the costumes critically. "Very good. Luke, you'll find a length of silver wire in that toolbox on the bench. Wrap it around the acklay's muzzle in a sort of decorative halter. Vader, how's the ring's illusion holding up? Well enough. Does everyone know what to do once we get out there?"

We had rehearsed countless times, but we could only hope everything would play out once we were before a crowd. It was out of our control now; whether we succeeded or failed at this depended on how Laman's guests received us.

"Then let's go. No, wait." She raised her wings and inspected her tattered feathers critically. "This won't do… let's see…"

For the second time since I'd known her, the phoenix underwent a transformation, though this one was not nearly as dramatic. Her brown color deepened and took on a slightly golden cast, her feathers smoothed themselves out and took on an iridescent sheen, and her body became streamlined and graceful. No longer the worn creature we had become accustomed to, she was not nearly as glorious as she had been in her prime, but she would be eye-catching enough to our audience tonight.

"How long can you keep that up?" asked Luke.

"Hours if I have to, though hopefully we won't be out there that long."

The soldier returned at that moment, luckily missing our exchange with Ash. "They're ready for you."

Luke took a deep breath. "Let's go."

The soldier led us to the door of the banquet hall and told us to wait there until our arrival was announced. All the same, I stepped just inside the doorway to scan the area. The dining hall of Governor Laman's palace was a surprisingly austere chamber – steel walls, vaulted ceiling, durasteel floor, and expensive but tasteful furniture. Several long tables held the guests, mostly Imperial leaders from the look of things. The air was filled with their banter and laughter, though the chatter had a nervous undercurrent to it. It was as if they were trying far too hard to convince themselves and each other that they were truly enjoying themselves. Unsurprising – they had to know that they had weeks at most before they would be put out of power.

Laman sat at the head of the centermost table, his daughter on one side and an uncomfortably familiar-looking man who I suspected was the groom seated on his other side. So General Veers was still around. I wondered what Governor Laman hoped to accomplish by acquiring the ruthless, dedicated officer as a son-in-law. It was unthinkable that young Tyra loved the man…

"Ladies and gentleman," came the announcement, "we have a special treat tonight – members of the Royal Naboo Circus with their extraordinary trained beasts and a droid of remarkable talent! Proudly introducing the Skywalkers!"

The applause was brief and polite as I entered the chamber, Ash perched on my arm. Several people murmured in speculation at the sight of the phoenix. Tuck entered through a doorway on the other side of the hall, unnoticed… until he gave a long whistle and raised his own arm.

Ash launched herself into the air, gliding low over the tables. A few people screamed in surprise and dodged while others gasped in wonder. In flight, Ash was truly beautiful.

Tuck whistled again, and Ash circled first one table, then another. A hand gesture from Tuck, and she soared to the highest point of the ceiling, then dove for him like a descending missile. She landed neatly on his arm and folded her wings away.

The applause was more enthusiastic this time, I noted.

"A gift for the bride-to-be," Tuck said loud enough for all to hear, pulling a flower from his vest and giving it to Ash. "Will you deliver it?"

Ash bobbed her head and took it in her beak, then went airborne again. A few more acrobatics, then she landed on the table before a startled Tyra and bowed, depositing the gift before her. Before she, Laman, or Veers could react, she was airborne again, circling a few more times before landing on my arm once again.

The applause was cut short, and gasps filled the room as Luke and Fett led Nightwind into the hall. For the first time I noticed something that should have been quite obvious – the acklay was growing. When we had first discovered him, his head had barely reached my chest; since that time almost a meter had been added to his height. And his color seemed to be deepening as well, from a fiery orange-red to a deeper berry red.

Luke gestured sharply downward with one hand, and Nightwind bowed regally to the crowd. That action alone garnered an enthusiastic response. To most of the galaxy, acklays were notoriously difficult, if not nearly impossible, to train, even if one started when they were cubs.

Nightwind's routine went off without a hitch – he reared, danced, "spoke," shook claws with Fett, performed simple addition and subtraction by tapping with his foreclaws, and played dead before the crowd. Laman's guests loved every moment of it, and Nightwind seemed to absorb the attention like a sponge.

As a sort of finale, Fett signaled for the acklay to lower his head. Luke bent forward, and Nightwind opened his mouth and carefully took him in his jaws. The room filled with gasps of amazement and applause. I just smiled beneath my mask – we trusted Nightwind implicitly. He considered us part of his pack, friends and equals. He would sooner chew off his own legs than knowingly harm one of us.

"They ought to have a young lady in the act," I heard Veers mutter to Laman. "Have a bit more impact if there were a woman in danger…" Though something in his tone suggested he would not have been impressed by a woman… or much of anything, for that matter.

At last it was Jessa's moment of glory. It took a few moments to wire her player to the room's sound system, but once that was accomplished, she assured us she could take it from there.

"A hint," Ash said just loud enough for Jessa and I to here. "I would avoid love songs at this time, or at the very least anything overly romantic. I sense an unusual amount of tension…"

"Visions of Adam Sandler in 'The Wedding Singer,'" Jessa murmured. "Should I sing 'Love Stinks' or what?"

"I trust you to use your own discretion," she retorted.

Jessa stepped forward, graceful as ever, and sang something I recognized from our days on the road – "Stand By Me." She was totally oblivious to the reaction of the crowd, to anything but the song, immersing herself in it, her metallic body totally responsive to the music. It seemed music was to Jessa what piloting was to myself and Luke, a natural talent that bordered on obsession.

I was not expecting the reaction she received once the final strains died away – a standing ovation.

"Encore!" demanded Laman, a wide grin on his face. "Encore from the droid!"

She glanced my way as if seeking permission. I nodded assent, and she made some kind of adjustment to the player and proceeded to sing "Lean On Me," then "Forever Young." Obviously she would be the hit of the night. The Imperials certainly seemed to love her.

At last I waved off a third encore and took Nightwind's lead, ready to lead him back to the garage.

"Mr. Skywalker, a word?" Laman inquired.

I told Jessa to take care of the acklay, then turned back to the governor. "Yes?"

"I must admit, I was not expecting such a performance. How in the galaxy did you manage to train that acklay? And the bird – I've never seen anything like her… and the droid, what a voice…" He gave me a covetous look. "I understand the creatures are you and your sons' source of livelihood, but I would be quite willing to pay a handsome price for them, enough for you to acquire new attractions…"

"They are not for sale," I replied. "It is not a business matter, but a personal matter. We have worked with them so long that they have become members of the family."

"I see," he replied, though his slight scowl told me he really did not see. "Very well, then. You will stay for my daughter's wedding and be paid well enough for your troubles. And perhaps I can give you a letter of recommendation when you seek work again."

That conversation over, I moved off toward the garage. The others were helping themselves to the feast, including Ash, who was perched on the back of a chair beside some Grand Admiral's wife and accepting scraps from the lady's hands. I let them be and departed. They had all worked hard and deserved the respite.

When I entered the garage, an unexpected sight met my eyes… Tyra.

The governor's daughter had certainly taken no time to rid herself of her formal gown and change into something more comfortable – white tunic, sapphire-blue vest, brown pants, and calf-high boots of dark brown lizard hide. Her hair, elaborately braided into a crown for the banquet, now hung down to her waist, held out of her face by a simple elastic headband. She seemed oblivious to my presence, scratching Nightwind's nose and crooning nonsense to him. Jessa watched, her eyes merry, as she filled his water trough.

I hung back a moment, ensured the illusion still held strong, and approached her. The ring was silent, not openly disapproving of her presence but not offering anything positive either. Evidently Tyra was not vital to our quest, at least not yet.

"Lady Tyra…"

"Please, just Tyra," she told me, never taking her eyes off the acklay. "I'd rather you address me as a friend than as one of those snobs my father likes to consort with."

So she was not naturally shy; it was the presence of her father that kept her so subdued. "Behind his crest," I told her. "He likes to be scratched there, but hard – it tickles him otherwise."

"You mean they get ticklish?" she asked, amazed, as she obliged. "Stars, you don't think about something so fierce and predatory being ticklish – or liking to be scratched, for that matter…"

Nightwind moaned in pleasure and leaned forward to allow Tyra better access to the back of his head. "Nice lady…" he crooned, though she couldn't understand him, of course.

"What's his name?" she asked.

"Nightwind," I replied.

"Well, hello, Nightwind," she cooed. "You're a good boy, aren't you? You did so well tonight at dinner… such a good boy…"

"What'd she say? What'd she say?" he asked eagerly.

I translated – telepathically, of course – and addressed Tyra in the conventional manner. "I think he likes you."

She laughed. "You know, for once I have to agree with General Veers – it would be exciting to have a woman in your troupe. Could you imagine? A beautiful lady and a fearsome-looking beast… wouldn't it look wonderful to the audience?"

"Are you volunteering yourself?" I asked.

"Why not? It'd be far more exciting than attending Father's _boring _state dinners and balls, sitting through speeches, listening to the men gab on for hours about battle strategies and treaties and alliances, hearing Veers go on and on and on about his army's victories and his incredible missions, as if they were the only important things…"

And to my utter shock, she suddenly dissolved into a fit of noisy, desperate sobs. I could only stare, stunned, wondering how she could act so upbeat one moment and burst into messy tears the next. Part of me wanted to console her, but another just wanted me to leave the room until her hysterics abated. My mother – Shmi had never wept like this, nor had Padme… I had no idea how to react…

"Men are insensitive clods," Jessa grumbled, and she dropped the bag of feed she had been hauling and went to Tyra's side, taking a corner of her glittering cloak in one hand and placing it over Tyra's nose. "Blow, sweetheart. You can talk about it better if you're not all stuffed up."

Tyra complied, then wiped her reddened eyes with her fingers. "Sorry. I'm just… I miss him…"

Only now did the ring perk up, prickling warmly. So the girl WAS a key to whatever we had to accomplish here.

"Sit, girlfriend." Jessa perched on a bench and patted it. "Let's have a girl-to-girl talk."

She stared, no doubt puzzled that a droid would suggest a "girl-to-girl talk."

"C'mon, sweetie, I don't bite."

"Talk to her," I urged Tyra. "She is an intelligent droid. Perhaps she can help you."

She took a seat beside Jessa and hesitantly began to speak. "It's… it's Veers… I don't love him… I don't want to marry him…"

Not exactly a shocking revelation.

"I'm in love with somebody else… but Father won't have it… says it's not proper… he wants me to marry Veers… thinks that with his political influence and Veers' army… they can take a stand against the Rebellion and stay in control of Kruvex… been talking about an alliance for months…"

"And your hand in marriage is a condition of Veers' support of your father's regime?" I theorized.

She nodded. "Before she died, Mother taught me that marriage should be about love, not politics or social games. She told me to follow my heart, that it was the best compass I could find, even if it led me in a direction I couldn't understand. So when I fell in love with… with Blade… I didn't even question how strange it was. I just embraced it."

"Who's this Blade?" asked Jessa. "Is he cute?"

"Oh, he's handsome!" gushed Tyra, brightening a moment. "He's got these dark eyes you just fall into, and these broad shoulders, and this smile…" She looked about to swoon for a moment, but then recomposed herself. "He was a little weirded out by me at first, but now I'm positive he loves me back…"

"Does this Blade have brothers?" asked Jessa with a note of hope in her voice.

"Lots of them. He's a stormtrooper."

Jessa's eyes resembled the eyes of a womp rat caught in landspeeder headlights. "A what?"

"A stormtrooper. I call him Blade because he has a scar across his face from a vibroblade attack. The other troopers tease him about it a lot…"

"Um… if he's a clone…" Jessa seemed to have been overwhelmed by the absurdity of this romance – a governor's daughter and a cloned soldier. I made no comment – after all, I had seen stranger match-ups.

"I told you it was strange… but you don't know him, you don't know how sweet he is… we had it all planned out… we would sneak out aboard a shuttle to the next system over and elope…" Her eyes filled with tears again. "Father found out about it. He discovered his notes to me. First he yelled at me for a good hour, then he had Blade transferred to a base on the other side of the planet. But he keeps in touch – we have a secret comm line that Father knows nothing about. And last night he told me that he was arranging to come to the Kruvex capitol on his leave, and we could sneak away then!"

"When does he arrive?" I asked.

"The day before the wedding. If everything goes well, we can be off planet and a dozen systems away before anyone notices I'm gone." She dabbed at her eyes with the hem of Jessa's cloak. "I just miss him. And I'm worried. He's a stormtrooper, there are a million things that can happen to him…"

"And dwelling on them won't help anything," Jessa told her. "Look, if you truly love this… guy, then have some faith in him. He has a plan, and he's committed to seeing it through. Just trust that he'll keep himself out of trouble and come for you."

Tyra smiled. "Thanks."

"Anytime." She patted her shoulder with a clawed hand. "And if you need a shoulder to cry on, mine's available. Won't be too comfy, seeing as it's metal…"

"You're a lifesaver," Tyra replied, embracing her. "Thank you. And thank you, sir, for letting me talk to her."

"You are most welcome, Tyra."

Nightwind sniffed. "Humans and their complicated mating rituals. Glad I'm not one."

_Break…_

The next day, another stormtrooper – or the same one, I was not sure – came to our makeshift quarters in the garage and informed us that the governor had "requested our presence" at an informal gathering that night.

"By 'requests our presence,' he most likely means 'show up if you don't want to be shot as Rebels or traitors,'" Luke said wryly after the soldier had left.

"And he'll probably expect fresh tricks," noted Fett.

"That won't be difficult," Ash assured him.

"But I thought we were supposed to be accomplishing a quest," Tuck said, puzzled. "Not impersonating circus performers."

Luke turned to me. "Father, has the ring given you any idea…"

"The governor's daughter," I replied, and explained what had transpired last night. Tuck looked fit to burst at the news, but the others took it in stride.

"Good for her!" Luke said with a wide grin. "Standing up for her heart!"

"A pair of star-crossed lovers," Ash noted with a dreamy look in her eye. "As long as there is love between two souls somewhere, there is hope for this imperfect universe of ours…"

"As long as we don't have to perform at the wedding," Fett grumbled.

"And the other clones laughed at ME for being so strange!" Tuck exclaimed, looking torn between amusement and indignation.

"That's our quest?" Nightwind asked, cocking his head at a puzzled angle. "To help the nice girl and her mate escape?"

"The ring has not specified the nature of the quest," I replied. "It will take more information to be sure."

"And we have the perfect opportunity to gather information," Ash replied. "Tonight, after the performance, everyone mingle with the guests. And I mean everyone – even let them see the acklay up close. Keep your ears open. And I want someone to pay special attention to Governor Laman. He may let something important slip, especially if he's well wined-up."

The second night's performance went as smoothly as the first, this time culminating in a conjoined act as Jessa performed an upbeat number she called "Best Years of Our Lives" while Ash executed incredible aerial maneuvers and Nightwind danced to the beat. Then, once the audience had calmed down, we split up and circulated throughout the room. Any promising snippet of information, any gossip that might bear fruit, was quietly filed away.

After a good hour and a half, we were all exhausted and had turned up nothing. Frustrated, we returned to the garage.

"That was a waste," humphed Jessa, collapsing with a metallic clatter in a corner. "The most I found out is that Grand Moff What's-His-Butt has the hots for poor Tyra."

"With a body like that, can you blame her?" asked Luke. Then he seemed to realize what he had just said and blushed.

"Where's Tuck?" demanded Ash, her amber eyes flashing with concern. "Nightwind, wasn't he with you?"

"I thought he went back with Luke," Nightwind protested.

"Maybe he's onto something," Fett suggested. "He says he's good at finding information…"

At that moment Tuck entered the room, shaking badly.

"Tuck!" Luke raced over and steadied him. "What's wrong?"

"My brothers, my brothers…" Tuck gasped.

Without conscious thought I reached out and gripped the trooper's shoulder with my left hand. A snap of power passed through me and into him, and the frantic tension melted from his face as his story poured out:

"I was following Nightwind out when, for some reason, I felt compelled to take a different route. As I passed a conference room, I overheard two men talking – Governor Laman and General Veers. And they were discussing Tyra and Blade.

"'You promised me that soldier was out of the picture!' Veers was saying. He was quite upset.

"'I DID get him out of the picture,' was the governor's reply. 'Tyra is young and silly. If she's separated from that clone for a few weeks, she'll soon get over her little crush and be ready to settle down. Why do you think I went to such trouble to transfer him? And believe me, I had no idea he'd go to such lengths as to set up a comm line…'

"Then Veers retorted 'Then why not destroy the clone? It's obvious he's aberrant! No normal clone goes wooing his commander's daughters…'

"Then Laman replied 'Because he's one of my best soldiers. And with that mockery of an Alliance gaining power every day, I need all the good soldiers I can get.'

"'I'm warning you,' Veers said. 'We had an agreement. And if you value the life of one stinking clone over our agreement…'

"'Calm yourself, Veers," came the reply, 'this is but a minor obstacle. This clone will be on his way here in two weeks' time. It will be a simple matter to… be rid of him. His shuttle can always have an accident.' He was silent a moment as if thinking. 'It will mean losing another fifty soldiers, but if your own forces are as powerful as you say, it's a paltry loss.'"

Oh, Tuck, why did you have to be the one to find out? Of course you would take this hard. Outcast or not, these men are still your brothers, in a sense.

The ring burned and throbbed, and I clenched my left hand tightly. Even before the exchange between Luke and Ash, I knew the nature of our first quest.

"What are we going to do?" Luke asked.

The phoenix laughed. "Why, rescue Lady Tyra's love and Tuck's brothers, of course!"


	13. Phoenix: The Army of Seven

**Chapter XII – Phoenix: The Army of Seven**

When we inquired of Ash exactly how she planned to rescue fifty stormtroopers from an Imperial governor with hundreds of men and an entire planet's resources at his disposal, she kept her beak firmly closed. Instead, she gave us mysterious orders over the course of the next two weeks, sending us on errands during breaks in planning and rehearsing our now-nightly performances. Some of her requests were clear enough, but others were… odd.

"Tuck," she ordered one day, "when you get the chance, slip into the barracks and locate the shoulder pauldron of a sergeant, then bring it here."

"Um… the barracks are heavily guarded," he pointed out.

"They allow stormtroopers in and out, don't they?" she inquired gently. "We still have your armor packed away…"

An hour later, Tuck tossed the item at Ash's clawed feet. "There you go."

"Very good. Conceal it in our packs for the time being. Now Jessa, I want you to go through the kitchens and garages of Laman's palace and scrape together all the flammable materials you can find – grease, cooking oil, lubricant, fuel wastes… Fett, go with her, and while you're at it secure some cooking-spice powder, as much as you can filch without being caught. Vader, I want you to pay a series of visits to the nearest town. Find where the local resistance cells are and provide them with whatever supplies they need. Tuck, help him secure weaponry if needed. Luke, three days before the wedding, I will need you to contact the Alliance."

"What!" he protested.

"Please, this is important. Don't give them any details, just tell them the Imperial governor of Kruvex is seeking civil war with his people, and they need help."

"He's not seeking civil war," Fett pointed out.

"Just tell them," Ash said shortly. "But be careful, Luke, and the moment they start prying for information regarding our quest, cut the connection."

To say Luke was unhappy with his assignment was an understatement. I knew that he missed his friends and comrades among the Rebellion and wanted to go back to them, yet he had no desire to abandon our fellowship either. And to be absent while they continued to fight the Empire had to be difficult. But he agreed to send the message at the appropriate time.

"What do I do?" asked Nightwind.

"The others will conveniently forget to latch your door," Ash told him. "During the night, go to the lowest levels of the palace and locate a blue-insulated power cable as thick around as a man's leg. Then find a way to sever it."

"You mean bite through it?" he asked.

"That'll kill him!" protested Luke.

"No it won't," Nightwind replied. "I'm tough. I can chew bones apart. Cable won't be a problem."

"Besides, acklays can withstand immense electric shocks," Ash pointed out. "He will be in no danger."

Fett rolled his eyes. "This has to be the craziest thing I've ever done."

"And knowing you, pal, that's really saying something," Jessa quipped. "C'mon, let's go to the kitchens."

"And one more thing," Ash ordered. "Do not let Tyra know of either her father's plot or our counterplot. She is liable to panic."

The days slipped past, with our company's time equally divided between choreographing new performances and going about the errands Ash gave us. It was just as well that, thanks to the governor's fondness for our party, we had almost complete freedom within the walls of his mansion. It was an easy matter for us to go about our business relatively unnoticed.

The leader of the resistance on Kruvex, a matronly Ithorian who treated her supporters like her own children, informed us that the rebel faction here was surprisingly large but greatly undersupplied. Mostly youth and young adults and almost equally divided between humans and aliens, most of them had had only rudimentary training with blasters, and much of their weaponry was outdated by several years and in sad condition. Some were armed only with vibroblades, projectile weapons, or even crude pikes and swords. After a few words with her, Tuck and I began making discreet visits to her headquarters under the guise of searching for fresh talent for our show, bringing blasters, detonators, body armor, comm units, holodisplays, and two or three portable cannons. It was a wonder that we were never caught… but then, perhaps the ring's power played a part.

Jessa and Fett had considerable luck with their portion of Ash's mysterious plan, and stacks of sealed buckets now occupied one corner of the garage that was our temporary quarters. The reek of stale frying oils and engine grease filled the room with a noxious miasma, and passerby often remarked on the smell, wondering aloud if it was a by-product of the acklay. Within the week a bag of rust-colored powder also joined the stack, giving off a strong sweet-spicy fragrance that helped counter the stench.

Nightwind was having difficulty in his assignment, however. Twice he had been discovered by patrols, and stormtroopers had roused us and ordered us to recapture him. The cable he was sent to cut also proved obstinate, refusing to part.

Once in the early hours of morning he came scuttling back into the garage, whimpering in terror.

"What is it?" I asked, standing and going to the door to meet him. "Were you electrocuted?"

"I'm falling apart!" he squealed in horror. "Look, part of my mouth fell out!"

I made him open his mouth and examined carefully. "You lost a tooth, Nightwind. That is all."

"What do you mean, 'all?'" he shrilled. "I'm losing teeth! How am I supposed to eat!"

"What's his problem?" groaned Fett, rolling over on his pallet to glare at the creature.

"He lost a tooth while chewing on the cable," I replied.

"Hey, it's all right, boy," Luke told Nightwind in a comforting tone. "You're just losing your baby teeth. Soon more teeth will grow to replace them – bigger and stronger teeth. Don't worry, it's perfectly normal, even humans do it."

Nightwind relaxed. "Sorry to wake you up. I'll go back…"

"That would not be wise," Ash replied. "Wait until the evening before going back. If you make a second trip down there tonight, you'll increase your chances of getting caught."

Three days before the wedding, Luke went before the governor and requested permission to use his comm line to send a message – "to our mother, to let her know we're doing all right," was his explanation. Laman obliged, even setting guards at his office door to keep him from being disturbed. Luke emerged about half an hour later and flashed Ash and me a smile. It had gone perfectly.

"Now what?" I asked the phoenix.

"We wait," she replied. "The day after tomorrow, we act."

"The day after tomorrow, Blade is due to arrive," I replied. "And the governor will see his ship reduced to scrap the moment it attempts to land."

"Have patience," she urged, pecking the side of my helmet. "We cannot act until the time is right. It is not enough to simply rescue the stormtroopers. We must also ensure that the governor never again has a chance to harm another innocent. Now if you will excuse me, there are a few things I must see to before we can begin…"

_Break…_

The last time the phoenix had concocted a plan, it had failed miserably, so it was only natural that I was rather apprehensive regarding this strategy. But even I could not have predicted what occurred the day before the wedding, before the sun had risen.

"Get up," barked the officer who had just entered, kicking Fett's prone form to emphasize his point.

Fett yelped in pain and sat bolt upright. The pain in his bones had been getting slowly but steadily worse over the past few weeks. That concerned me, but at the moment it was the least of our worries.

"Did Nightwind get out again?" mumbled Tuck, rising and combing his fingers through his unruly black hair.

"No," groaned Luke, getting to his feet. "He's still in. What's the problem?"

"The governor wants to see you right now," the officer said, his voice dripping with contempt. "All of you. Bird and droid included. The acklay can stay here, but under strict guard… and your possessions will be searched."

"Searched?" I repeated. "What is going on?"

"Silence!" the officer snapped. "Up and march, unless you want your bird or your droid or one of your sons shot right now!"

Bewildered, we followed, surrounded by guards, Ash perched on my arm and Jessa slinking behind with an ion blaster pointed at her back in case she made a run for it. I could not begin to fathom why the governor would want to see us at this hour… unless he had somehow discovered our plan. _Ash's _plan, I amended. I intended to hold her fully responsible for the consequences if the plan failed and we somehow made it out alive.

Governor Laman wore an expression of outrage, glaring at us as we were brusquely hustled into his office. Tyra, still in a pale blue night robe, sat in a chair in one corner of the office, looking every bit as startled as I felt at the moment.

Laman wasted no breath but got right to the heart of the matter. "My daughter reports that her jewels are missing," he snarled. "She was last wearing them in your presence two weeks ago, Mr. Skywalker."

"Daddy, I'm sure I just misplaced them," Tyra protested.

"Silence," he ordered sternly. He turned his attention back to us. "So is this how you repay me? I give you employment, I offer you recommendation, and you see fit to steal from my daughter?"

"We don't even know what necklace you're talking about…" began Luke.

Laman slapped a button on his desk, and a holo flickered above his hand, picturing the string of emeralds Tyra had worn the day we met her. Small wonder her father was so upset – such a collection of genuine, nearly flawless stones could buy a small star system.

"We would not touch your daughter's possessions," I told Laman. "And you have no proof otherwise…"

"Oh really?" Laman said gloatingly, and he jerked open a desk drawer, withdrew an object, and flung it down on the desk before me as if throwing down a gauntlet. "The string and clasp from the necklace, found among your possessions last night during your performance!"

Tyra's mouth fell open.

I stared, stunned, at the governor. How could he make such a ridiculous claim? But a sickening thought hit me – had he planned this all along? Was his offer to reimburse us and give a letter of recommendation a ruse to lure us into his service for a week or two? And had he planted this evidence in order to have an excuse to imprison or execute us… and thus avoid actually paying us for our services?

There was a metallic clink as Ash pecked my helmet again. "Relax, Vader, and be prepared to move on my signal," she advised, her words audible only to me. "The game isn't over yet."

How could she be so calm about this?

"Take the men to the cell block," Laman snarled. Then a gleam of greed flickered in his eyes. "Their droid, acklay, and bird are hereby confiscated. Get a restraining bolt on the droid and cage the bird, then take both to my quarters."

"Daddy, that's not fair!" Tyra exclaimed. "They should at least get a trial…"

"Stay out of this!" Laman barked.

Ash half-spread her wings, and for the first time I noticed that her feathers were coated with a reddish dust. "On the count of five, grab Tyra and get out of the room. One… two…"

A guard grabbed my free arm and forced it behind my back. A second soldier reached for Ash.

"Threefourfive!" she shouted in all our minds, and beat her wings furiously, her feathers bristling and making her appear much larger than usual. Rust-colored dust filled the air, and the guards released us and immediately began coughing and gagging. I jerked my arm free, grabbed a corner of my cloak, and slapped it over my air intake vent to keep from inhaling the spice as Ash launched herself into the air, circling the room, releasing more of the irritating powder into the faces and lungs of our captors.

"Get Tyra out of the room!" she ordered.

I pushed past a startled, coughing Laman, grabbed the girl by her arm, and dragged her outside, followed closely by the others, all sneezing and wiping their eyes furiously.

"What was that all about?" demanded Luke, stifling an enormous sneeze.

"Shut the door!" Ash ordered, landing on the floor nearby, the spice she had liberally bathed herself in still falling from her plumage. "And jam it!"

Before the guards could force their way through, Tuck slammed his fist against the controls, and the doors clanged shut. Fett blasted the controls, making the door virtually unopenable from either side.

"Good, the governor won't be getting out for awhile," Ash replied. "Get Tyra out of here. I'll go begin phase two of the plan."

"Phase two?" I repeated, suddenly realizing what Ash must have done. "You stole Tyra's necklace!"

"Part of the plan," Ash replied with a wink, and she took to the air again. "Concentrate on getting out of the palace in one piece. And take Tyra with you."

"What is going ON here?" Tyra demanded in a half-hysterical voice, a question that even I did not know the entire answer to.

"Come on!" Luke told her. "Your father had a plot to kill Blade!"

"WHAT!" She wrenched free of my grip. "How am I supposed to believe you? How do I know you don't just want to kidnap me?"

"Tyra, trust us!" Jessa urged.

"I'm not going with you!" she said stubbornly. "Not until you can prove…"

At that moment, the ring's power flashed through my blood, and I sensed the illusion that had disguised me for so long falling away. Tyra's eyes widened as she saw who I truly was for the first time. Her mouth opened as if to scream…

And she slumped into a startled Tuck's arms.

"Good, now get her out," Ash said quickly. "I'll give the signal for the resistance to attack."

"Tuck, Fett, get Tyra out," I ordered. "Luke, Jessa, let's go get Nightwind."

"Roger roger," Jessa said in an exaggerated monotone, saluting.

We had only traveled a few dozen paces before a keening alarm pierced the morning air. Fire! What was she up to now?

Jessa pointed out the nearest window. "Look!"

The phoenix was visible, a starburst of brown-gold circling the western tower of the palace. Even as we watched a tentacle of dark oily smoke coiled out of a window as if seeking to snatch Ash out of the air. Seconds later, a wave of brilliant orange flame engulfed the top story of the tower as if it were a massive torch. A signal torch, I realized, as a great battle cry sounded and the noise of combat began filling the hallways of the palace.

"That explains why we needed the oil and grease," Jessa noted. "Fuel for the fire."

"A wide-scale distraction," I replied. "Between the fires, the resistance, and being locked in his own office, Laman will be too occupied to worry about destroying Blade."

"That's not the only thing," Luke added, pointing skyward.

X-wings… A-wings… the Alliance had arrived to liberate Kruvex IV.

"I think it is time we made ourselves scarce," I told the others.

Luke gave the approaching Rebel Fleet a last, longing glance, then followed us down the hall.

Nightwind was frantic with panic when we reached the garage. Smoke had already filtered into the makeshift stall, and blaster fire and shouts of battle were all too audible through the walls. I grabbed his lead and urged him to hold still as Jessa and Luke hastily flung our supplies onto his back.

"Freeze!"

I whirled. Five stormtroopers had entered the room, Veers at their head. There was no fear on the general's face, no sign of terror.

"Lord Darth Vader," he sneered. "We meet again. So did you engineer all this?" He laughed mockingly. "Quite clever. Though I'm afraid you won't be getting away with it as you got away with destroying the Emperor…"

I lifted my arm, ready to block if the troops fired. Luke pulled a blaster. Our lightsabers were still in our packs, out of reach. We would have to fight with what we had…

"HHHHHHRRRRRRAAAAAAAGGGGGGHHHHH!"

The troopers started in surprise as a terrible form leaped from Nightwind's back, brandishing dual blades of green and blue light, brown eyes flashing dangerously and claws gleaming wickedly. Veers raised his blaster to fire at the apparition, but a gesture on my part sent the weapon skittering across the room. The stormtroopers, panicked beyond recovery at the sight of the terrible beast of metal, scattered and bolted for the exit, and Veers followed them out, cursing.

Jessa, meanwhile, landed neatly on her feet, dropped our lightsabers, and doubled over with laughter. "That look… on his face… so priceless…"

"Glad to know you enjoyed it," I replied dryly. "Out now!"

Outside the palace, total bedlam reigned. Stormtroopers and resistance fighters met and mixed in pitched combat, bolts of fire streaking across the battlefield and explosions of detonators and cannons filling the air with smoke and debris. Overhead, the Rebel Fleet engaged the hastily organized Imperial defense. Governor Laman's palace, once an impressive structure, was blackened with blaster fire and flames, oozing smoke as if bleeding black ichor. The palace's anti-aircraft cannon was swiveling to track the Rebel ships, but strangely enough, it was not firing. Apparently Nightwind had finished severing the cannon's power cable.

A glint of silver caught my attention. An Imperial shuttle was gliding through the bedlam, angling to land some fifty meters from the heart of the fighting. The Rebel Fleet had not sighted it yet, fortunately… and if the ring, pulsing and burning madly, was to be believed, it was the second vehicle, the vessel that would take us on our second quest.

"To the shuttle!" I ordered.

Halfway there we met up with Fett and Tuck, as well as a now-conscious Tyra. By now, it seemed, the governor's daughter had decided our bizarre group was the lesser of the two evils.

At last we reached the ship just as it touched down. Ash swooped down, grabbed something off of the acklay's back, and dropped it near Tuck.

"Change into your armor!" she commanded. "Quickly!"

With the speed and skill of one who could probably perform this task in his sleep, he complied.

"And put on the shoulder pauldron! Then you and Vader go into the ship and take command!"

"I'm not a commander!" Tuck protested.

"That says you are!" she shot back, indicating the pauldron. "Go!"

The landing ramp hissed downward, but before any of the troops could disembark, all of us were charging aboard.

"What the stang?" was the general reaction, repeated a hundred times by the stunned stormtroopers as we wrestled our way aboard the ship.

"I am taking command of this vessel," I announced. I gestured toward Tuck. "You will answer to my associate here until I say otherwise."

"What's going on?" demanded a soldier in the back. "If there's a war going on out there, we should be out there fighting…"

"Stuff it, white-britches!" Jessa snapped. "Shove aside, make room for the acklay…"

I let the others stay in the passenger hold and restore some semblance of order as I retreated to the cockpit. The pilots gave me a look of pure terror and vacated, allowing me complete control of the ship. Perfect.

Luke flung himself into the co-pilot's seat. "X-wings on their way, moving to intercept."

"I see them." I strapped in and powered the engines. "We will have to maneuver our way past them. I don't dare shoot down Rebel fighters."

"Thanks," Luke said with great relief. I wondered just how many of his friends were in those ships, seeking to shoot us down, not knowing their greatest hero was aboard.

Our last view of Kruvex IV was of a great rending explosion and a blossom of fire as the flames reached the palace's power core. Governor Laman would be hosting no more galas.

_Break…_

By all outward appearances, Blade was no different from any other stormtrooper, save a thin, straight scar from his right eye to the corner of his jaw. But just as the Force defined Tuck from his brethren, so was there an aura of… something that surrounded Blade and made him stand out. It was not the Force, I knew that much, but something else, something about the way he carried himself, in his smile and speech, in his dark eyes and features.

"Love has marked him," Ash said with a cock of her head that signified a smile for her. "Love has made him realize that he can be more than he is now. Love is a powerful force, the most powerful in the galaxy."

The stormtroopers we had rescued from Governor Laman's treachery had rejoined the Imperial Fleet at Anijj – which had not been our intentions, but it was their choice, and we could do nothing to persuade them otherwise. They had their beliefs, their causes to fight and die for, and we had no right to force them away from those beliefs if they did not wish to change their minds. They were grateful to us, however, for saving their lives, and had sworn a pact to never betray us to the remnant of the Empire.

Tyra and Blade, meanwhile, left us at Almania, ready to begin their own future together.

"We owe you so much," Blade told us. "We only wish we could do something for you in return."

"Your silence will be payment enough," I told them.

Ash, perched regally on my shoulder, suddenly bristled her feathers again and shook vigorously, and a fistful of emeralds fell from her plumage and to the ground.

"These rightfully belong to you," she told Tyra. "Use them to buy yourselves a house and whatever essentials you need… then use the rest to aid another in need. That will be your repayment."

Tyra scooped up the gems. "I will. I promise." She hesitated, then reached out and pressed a stone into my hand. "But take one with you. In case you need it."

I studied the gem – the deepest green of the wildest forest, flawless, as clear as Tyra's eyes…

"And now, we part company," Ash told the young lovers. "Our stories have different endings, but I have a feeling both will end well."

Blade's mouth gave a lopsided smile. "I'd be very interested in hearing your company's story in its entirety someday. Anything involving a talking bird and Darth Vader has to be interesting."

Ash cocked her head. "Perhaps we will meet again, young man. But for now, we really must be going."

Jessa had a wistful look in her eyes as we boarded the Imperial shuttle. "I'm gonna miss her. She wasn't half bad."

"As Ash said, theirs is another story," I replied, programming the coordinates for the second leg of our journey into the navicomputer and preparing to make the jump into hyperspace.

"What was that about meeting Blade again?" demanded Fett of Ash. "I was under the impression that, after all this was over, you were killing yourself."

Ash shrugged her wings. "Perhaps, hunter. Perhaps."

"Are all our quests going to be as crazy as this one?" asked Tuck.

We could only hope otherwise.


	14. Acklay: The Great Red

**Chapter XIII – Acklay: The Great Red**

Of all the possible destinations in the galaxy, why did the next stop have to be Tatooine?

"The wretched hive of scum and villainy," Jessa noted, affecting an accent. "You know, I've wanted to visit this place since I was a little girl."

"Earth must be dull if you wanted to take a vacation to Tatooine," Luke said teasingly.

"Believe me, kid, if you thought your home planet was an armpit, come to my homeworld," she shot back. "No starships, no antigrav, no droids with personalities…"

I ignored the two of them, concentrating on landing the shuttle on the outskirts of Mos Espa. Strange. Nothing had changed. I had expected time to alter this place somehow, but just as Corusant had remained virtually untouched by the monumental changes in the galaxy, Mos Espa had not been altered one iota by the passage of thirty years or the rise and fall of the Empire. It was still the same dusty, wind-pitted town, crawling with vermin and slime of every kind. I was certain that, if I walked these streets, I could retrace every step I had taken as a child. And I… I had changed radically. Mos Espa would not recognize the innocent slave boy that had followed a Jedi out of town so many years ago.

"What now?" asked Tuck.

"I think," I told the others, "I would like to take a look around. You may accompany me if you wish."

"Why so curious?" asked Luke.

"This is my hometown," I replied. "This is where I lived as a child."

Fett snorted. "You? From here? That's unbelievable."

"Believe it," Ash told him sternly. In a kinder voice she addressed me. "I think the rest of us will establish some sort of camp here. You go into town. Send a call through the ring if you need help. And try to be back by sundown. I'm sure you know what dangers lurk here after dark."

"Thank you, Ash."

I stepped off the shuttle, reformed the protective illusion, and entered the city. Stars, how I remembered these streets, the apartments and shops, the cantinas and garages. Yes, there were changes, but superficial ones – the outfitter's shop had a new owner, the rusted traffic control droid that had always stood at one corner had finally been hauled away, someone's dwelling had a new coat of paint (which seemed pointless, as the sun and sand would destroy it within weeks anyhow). For the most part, this was still the gritty, dirty, used town of my youth.

I entered Watto's junk shop, fully expecting to see the fat, grizzled Toydarian hovering behind the counter. Instead, I saw a dark-skinned man frowning over a readout, his calloused hands stained with grease and his black hair just starting to turn gray. He looked up at me, registered my presence, and turned his attention back to the readout.

"Be with you in a minute, sir," he told me.

The ring pulsed gently. I frowned, puzzled. This man was not the center of our quest, I knew that much, so why was it responding to his presence? Our fellowship had seven members already; surely we couldn't need an eighth. Then was there another purpose for addressing him?

He set the readout aside and straightened, smiling pleasantly. "Can I help you, sir?"

"I was looking for Watto," I replied. "He is… an old acquaintance of mine."

The man shook his head. "I'm sorry, but Watto died five years ago, and he sold the shop to my father three years before that. Had debts to pay off. Didn't do a lot of good, though – he died still paying. The Hutts are likely to go after his family now for the rest." His eyes had been taking on a faraway look as he'd spoken, but he snapped back to the present. "New to Mos Espa, sir?"

"This is where I spent my childhood, but I have been absent for a long time."

"Then welcome back, and pleased to meet you. My name's Kister. Yours?"

Despite the fact that I was wearing a respirator, I felt all breath flee my lungs. Kister?

"Um, sir?" He gave me a concerned look. "Is something wrong?"

"Kister," I murmured. "It's me, Anakin."

His jaw dropped. "Ani? _Ani?_ I thought you were dead! The Jedi Purges and all…" His expression became exultant, and he reached over the counter and punched my arm. "Stang, I missed you, Ani! Why didn't you ever come visit? My kids would've loved to see you!"

I laughed a little. "Life has been very chaotic for me, my friend."

Kister turned to the back of the store. "Kay, take over for me! I have to chat with a customer!"

"You forgot to say please, Dad," a teenage boy fooling around with a pit droid shot back, but he assumed his father's place at the counter anyhow.

"Come outside," he invited, gesturing to the junkyard. "We have a lot to catch up on."

"Yes," I replied. "First, tell me what has gone on here."

For the next hour I listened as my old friend explained how he had fallen in love with a naturalist and married her, and how his family had purchased Watto's junk shop and planned to expand the business. How our old friend Wald had found employ off planet as a Black Sun enforcer and was eventually killed in a barfight, and how my rival Sebulba had given up podracing after his defeat at the Boonta Eve race and had taken up demolition derby on Malastare instead (far more fitting, I thought). How the Empire had established a governor over Tatooine and attempted to wrest control of the planet away from the Hutts… and how the Hutts had shown the Imperials that they would not be trifled with by inviting the governor to Jabba's palace for a "visit," then having his remains gilded and put on public display in front of the Imperial bastion.

"That's about it," Kister finished. "But I want to hear about you. Whatever happened to that pack you left here with? The old Jedi, the girl, and the goofy alien? And how under the suns did you manage to hide from the Empire all this time?"

"I did not hide… not exactly." I hesitated. Did I dare reveal the truth to him?

"C'mon, Ani, you know you can tell me anything." He draped an arm around my shoulders. "Sure, it's been years, but deep down, we're still the same street rats, aren't we?"

"That's just it," I replied. "I am not the boy you once knew, Kister. I have… changed. Drastically."

"Everyone changes, but some things stay the same," he pressed. "Tell me."

"Kister, promise me," I said desperately. "Promise me that before you jump to any conclusions, you will hear me out. After I am through, you may do what you will, but until then, just listen."

He nodded. "Okay."

I lifted my left hand, willing him to see the ring. Obediently it caught the light of the double suns and flashed, catching his attention.

"This ring," I explained, "has powers… powers far beyond the Force. At the moment it is masking my true face from you through illusion. I am going to drop that illusion now. Be warned that what you will see may haunt you for life."

At first he stared at me as if I were a madman. Then he composed himself and nodded, though there was still a great deal of skepticism in his eyes. "I'm bracing myself. Go ahead, I'm ready."

He was not ready, I knew. But I released the Force that held the illusion in place, and the ring withdrew its power as well. Kister now saw me for who I was, saw what I had become… saw that the face of his childhood friend had become the mask of Darth Vader, a symbol of evil.

And to his credit, after his initial reaction of shock and fear, he did not call for help, order me away, or bolt in panic.

"Ani… what happened?" he said quietly, eyes still wide. "What happened to the boy I knew?"

"Much," I replied, feeling my throat close with emotion. "Too much."

He sat down on a rusted speeder and motioned for me to take a seat beside him. "Tell me."

My own story poured forth – departing Tatooine, having to leave my mother behind, fighting in the Battle of Naboo, the Jedi Master I had come to love and trust dying under the blade of a Sith, Qui-gon's reluctant apprentice taking me under his tutelage, learning of the Jedi's codes and edicts forbidding attachment of any kind, my mother's death and my subsequent rage…

My marriage to Padme, my pledge to the Emperor to save her and the children she carried, my slaughter of innocents, my duel with Kenobi, the horrific wounds I had suffered that left me forever trapped behind a steel mask, learning that I had killed Padme trying to save her, the years of agony and slavery at the Emperor's hands…

Then discovering my son and the ring, using the love of Luke and the power of the ring to finally break the chains binding me to the Emperor, the odd collection of creatures I now called friends and comrades, our quest for answers to our problems…

I left out anything dealing with the Shadow, as well as my true past as a dragon. There were just some things I felt too personal to share at the time. Besides, I had given Kister enough to digest for the time being.

"My old friend," Kister said softly once I had finished speaking, "I wish I could do something to help you." He smiled sadly. "I can't take you into my house, of course – the wife wouldn't have it. Imperials killed her sister, and she's still bitter about it."

"Even if she approved, I will not burden your family with my care," I replied. "You have helped enough by listening."

"Are you sure I can't do something?" he pressed. "Need credits, supplies, parts for your ship…"

"No. We will be fine." I stood. "I had better go. The others will be worried."

Kister stood as well and embraced me. "Good luck, my friend. Come back someday. I'll always be here if you need me."

"I will remember." I turned to go, then noticed something peculiar. "Where did you get that?"

"Oh, this?" He laughed and patted the side of the decrepit space yacht that had been parked in the junkyard. "Bought it off some offworlder who didn't know any better. Got it dirt-cheap and fixed it up, and once I get the cosmetic repairs done on it I'll be able to sell it for a good price – twenty-five thousand easy, fifty if I'm lucky."

Something about the ship piqued my interest. Though battered and scratched, its once-bright chrome finish dull with age, I had a feeling…

"There is something you can do for me," I told him. "I need a ship."

He hesitated, then nodded. "Go ahead. Take it. Call it thirty years' worth of birthday presents."

I laughed a little. "I suppose that means I owe you for all those years as well."

He waved it off. "Ah, seeing you again'll do me for the next fifty years. Just come and get it whenever you're ready to go."

_Break…_

The suns had reached the horizon by the time I made it back to the shuttle. Of the others, I only saw Ash and Luke, seated just beneath the wing of the shuttle for shade.

"Good, you're back," Luke said, sounding much relieved. "I was about to come looking for you."

"Where are the others?" I asked.

"Fett and Tuck are inside, arguing over something or other," Luke replied with a shrug. "Nightwind left to go hunting, and Jessa…" He jerked a thumb upward. "The usual."

I looked up. Jessa was stretched out on her back on the shuttle's viewscreen, arms folded behind her head, singing at the top of her lungs: "You may be right! I may be crazy! But it just may be a lunatic you're looking for…"

"I see." I shook my head. "I found our third ship."

Luke gave me a puzzled look. "Nothing's wrong with the shuttle. Why can't we just take it again?"

"I do not know. But at the moment, I choose to place my trust in the ring. It has yet to lead us wrong."

Ash looked up from the fire. "It's getting dark. We'd best go inside and retire for the night." She spread her wings. "I will seek out the acklay and bring him back."

"I do not think seeking him out will be a problem," I replied, gesturing toward the nearby desert. Nightwind was clearly visible, a sharp silhouette against the setting suns as he charged across the dry plain. What sort of prey was he chasing anyhow? Anything larger than an eopie should be visible, even from this distance…

"I think he's playing," Luke said with a smile. "He likes it out here. Lots of open space."

"And now that the light has dimmed, it is less of a misery for him to be outside," I added. The acklay came from a dark world; the double suns of Tatooine had to be a misery for him. Now that the day had dimmed, he had a chance to truly stretch his legs.

"Nightwind!" I shouted. "Time to come back!"

His reply was faint. "Don't want to go back!" he shouted petulantly, like a child putting off his bedtime.

"Tell him the Sandpeople come out by night, and he'll be safer in the shuttle," Luke replied.

I relayed the message, but Nightwind wouldn't have it. "I can fight Sandpeople! Not scared of them at all! Besides, it's nice out, and I'm not tired!"

I sighed and relented. "Stay where you can see the shuttle. Wake me up if there are any problems."

He gave a triumphant whoop and reared onto his hind sets of legs, punching at the air with his foreclaws.

"He's cute," Jessa noted. "Wish I could take him home with me."

Despite our concerns for Nightwind's safety, it turned out that allowing him to stay outside for the night would save all our lives… and that the Sandpeople were not what we needed to fear.

_Break…_

I was jolted out of pleasant oblivion by something massive banging against the sides of the shuttle. Startled, I shot upright, only to clang my helmet against the bulkhead. My surprised oath was joined by grumbles, shrieks, and loud complaints as the others responded to whatever it was that had disturbed us.

"That had better not be Nightwind," grumbled Fett.

"Actually, I'd rather it be Nightwind than something else," Luke pointed out.

The banging continued, and the ring was afire with power. Our second adventure was about to begin.

"Nightwind?" I asked.

"Something's coming!" came his shriek. "Wake up, wake up, wake up…"

Before I could ask what that "something" was, a horribly familiar sound penetrated the shuttle walls and reached us – the weird, haunting battle cry of a Tusken Raider.

"Sandpeople!" Luke exclaimed, grabbing his lightsaber and shoving his feet into his boots.

I retrieved my own weapon, and the six of us piled out of the shuttle. I was sure we were quite the sight – I had left my cloak behind in the rush, Jessa had mistakenly tied her blanket about her neck instead of her cape, neither Luke nor Fett were wearing shirts (though Fett still wore his helmet, a bizarre sight), and Tuck's boots were on the wrong feet. But at the moment, none of us cared. All our attention was directed toward the oncoming foes.

There had to be at least twenty Tusken Raiders barreling toward us from the dunes to our left, their banthas charging at breakneck speed, riders bent low over their shoulders. From Mos Espa, which lay to our right, came a party of nearly forty townspeople, armed with every sort of gun and blade imaginable, fully prepared to slaughter the oncoming attackers. And we were caught squarely in the middle of what would surely be a messy battle.

"Who votes for going back into the shuttle and waiting for this to blow over?" asked Jessa.

"I don't think the Tuskens want a fight," Ash spoke up, landing on my shoulder.

"What do you mean?" asked Tuck.

"For one thing, none of them have weapons ready," she pointed out. "Only those in the back have guns, and those guns are not pointed at the townspeople, but at something behind them…"

"Oh Sith!" exclaimed Fett. "Small wonder they're running! Look!"

Over the crest of the dune, trailing in the Tuskens' footprints, was a krayt dragon. A huge mass of muscle and scales and spines and teeth, it gave its piercing hunting cry and grinned savagely as it slunk after the fleeing Sandpeople. The light of the triple moons shone on its scales, red and hard in the pale light…

The Force help us. Red scales… this was no ordinary krayt.

The Great Red was the stuff of legends, an infamous beast that had terrorized Mos Espa and the surrounding land for over fifty years. Eerily intelligent, enormously strong, and unafraid of humans and civilization, she laired somewhere in the Dune Sea, visiting the city every so often to raid moisture farms or attack and devour anyone fool enough to be outside after dark. Time and again the Hutts had hired assassins and big game hunters to destroy the beast, and time and again she had thwarted their attempts, at one time fighting off a team of fifty hunters – and slaughtering forty-six of them.

The armed townspeople halted in their tracks, panic gleaming in their eyes. They had not expected this! Almost as one they turned to bolt back to the city, though a few gutsy men – Kister among them, I noticed – stayed behind and fired upon the beast.

"No!" screeched Nightwind. "Not back to the city! She'll follow us there and kill us! Go to the canyon!"

Most people would not have taken the advice of an acklay, even if they could have understood it, but at the moment I would have taken even Jabba the Hutt's advice, seeing as I had no ideas of my own. It was too late to follow the people of Mos Espa and pass on the warning, but as for the Tuskens…

Perhaps now was the time to make things right for that horrible night twenty-five years ago.

"To Beggar's Canyon!" I ordered everyone, townsfolk, Tuskens, and our fellowship alike. "Hurry!"

The men hesitated, but when the dragon bellowed again they heeded our advice and ran for the canyon. Thanks to the ring the Sandpeople understood, but they seemed reluctant to heed the advice of an outsider. In the end, however, it seemed they judged us the lesser of two evils.

The walls of Beggar's Canyon loomed over us as we retreated before the Great Red. Now I saw the wisdom of Nightwind's advice. In taking this route, we were leading the dragon away from Mos Espa, protecting the townspeople. That still did not explain how we would survive this situation, however.

At last Nightwind gave a piercing whistle, calling us to a halt next to a gigantic heap of boulders, the remains of a great rockslide years ago. "Right here."

"Right here what?" asked Luke.

The acklay turned to the rock heap and began clawing at it. "Help me dig!"

"Everyone dig!" I translated.

"Why?" demanded Kister. "What about the dragon…"

"Do it!" I ordered.

Working together, we dug at the rock pile, scraping hands and claws against the rocks until blood spotted the stones. Even the banthas pitched in, their wide feet shoving stones aside with ease. All the while, the Great Red came steadily closer.

"Enough!" bellowed Nightwind. "Back away!"

I stepped back, ordering everyone else to do the same. Nightwind remained where he was, head high, every muscle tensed for action. Did he intend to fight the dragon?

"She'll rip him apart," worried Kister. "Can't you call him back?"

"He is his own creature," I replied. "He follows no orders but his own…"

A fearsome red-scaled head rounded the corner, teeth bared in a smile of rage. Her golden eyes rested on Nightwind, gleaming hungrily. The acklay reached forward and placed one spike-like foreleg against a stone.

That was the moment I realized what he planned to do. His order to dig had had a purpose… and now every stone in the heap was in precarious balance, with the entire weight of the mass resting on the rock his leg was planted against. It was a deadly accident just waiting to happen.

The Great Red lunged with a roar.

Nightwind shoved hard against the stone and fled.

For a breathless moment, all was still. Then a roar of a different sort filled the canyon as the entire mass of rock thundered down. Too late the Great Red saw what was about to happen and tried to flee, but the slide overwhelmed her.

Then yet another roar filled the canyon… that of applause.

_Break…_

"I mean it," I told Kister. "Take the shuttle. Call it a gift."

"Ani, what am I gonna do with an Imperial shuttle?" he protested, laughing.

"Take it apart and sell it in pieces," I replied. "It will bring in far more income than the yacht would have. Trust me."

He laughed and embraced me a final time. "Good luck in your journey, my friend."

I turned and boarded the yacht. I would greatly miss Kister. He had proven to be a greater friend than I could have possibly imagined. Someday, maybe once this was over, I would have to return.

Nightwind was grinning quite widely as we prepared to go. "That was fun!"

"'Fun' would not be my choice of words," I replied. "And I presume you will be bragging about this for some time to come?"

He whuffed, his version of laughter. "Of course."

I smiled as my eyes rested on the acklay's neck. He had flatly refused to let us put the collar back on, so the item had been discarded before our departure. Instead, a leather thong hung about his neck, a thong from which dangled the trophy the Tuskens had given him – the ivory claw of the Great Red.

"I wonder…" Luke murmured, reaching out to touch the wicked claw. "The Great Red… she was a dragon, wasn't she?"

"They're not true dragons," Ash replied, looking up from preening herself. "They are reptiles, yes, but they have no trace of magic in their blood. Believe me, a true dragon would not have been so easily defeated."

All the same, I could not help but salute the memory of the Great Red. Despite all the terror she had wreaked, she was a legend, and legends are to be honored.


	15. Hunter: Warrior's Legacy

**Chapter XIV – Hunter: Warrior's Legacy**

Lightspeed should not be mistaken for instantaneous travel – even light takes time to cross through deep space and reach the eyes of a stargazer. Our journey from Corellia to Kruvex to Almania to Tatooine had taken many weeks, and we could be certain that many more weeks of travel lay ahead of us. We had completed two quests, but there remained five more.

"What's the purpose of this anyhow?" demanded Fett irritably, about three weeks after our departure from Mos Espa. "How is this supposed to help us?"

"Magicians are fond of 'bonding' rituals," Ash replied as she sipped water from Luke's canteen. "The Shadow must know that it will take all of us to fulfill each other's personal desires, and bonding us is the most effective way of ensuring we will not split up before we have all decided our destinies." She tilted her head back to swallow. "The simplest form of bonding a fellowship together is to send them on a quest or a number of quests, usually one for each member of the fellowship."

That made sense. In working together, we formed bonds of friendship and empathy, learned to work together as a team, and discovered much about each other and ourselves.

"You know too much, bird," Fett muttered, then hissed in pain as he lowered himself to a sitting position on a crate. I watched him carefully, concerned. We had taken a detour to Ryloth in order to visit a medical center and have Fett treated, but the doctor had been unable to determine the cause of Fett's illness. He had prescribed medications to boost his strength and ease his pain, but so far the hunter had stubbornly refused to take them. I feared his obsession with independence would quite literally be the death of him.

Days wore on. We occupied the time by playing sabaac, telling stories of our personal exploits, and listening to Jessa sing. At the time I considered it the most deadly dull portion of our journey, but looking back, I wish that time could have been extended a little longer.

At last the navicomputer signaled that we were approaching a life-bearing satellite. I excused myself from the latest round and returned to the cockpit to land the ship.

"What planet is this?" asked Jessa.

Luke bent over a screen to check. "The computer doesn't say," he noted. "Just lists it as Planet DF-40. About half-rock and half-ocean, no settlement readings…"

"Mandalore," Fett interrupted.

I turned to regard him. "Mandalore?"

"The birthplace of the Mandalorian warriors," Fett replied, his gaze never leaving the planet.

He had everyone's attention by now. I set the ship into orbit in order to listen more closely.

"The Mandalorian Order is the oldest organization in the galaxy, older than even the oh-so-revered Jedi Order. It was formed by Mandalore the First, a great and cunning warrior who conquered the planet ages ago. The first Mandalorians considered war a form of worship, a divine action that enabled them to attain glory. They fought alongside the Sith Order during the Old Sith Wars and were all but obliterated by the Jedi. In recent times their worship turned to that of money, and they became mercenaries, some holding true to the old codes of honor, others eschewing such notions.

"It was Jaster Mereel who brought order to the Mandalorians. He resurrected the old codes and restored honor and a belief in justice. But a splinter group fought against him, becoming the Death Watchmen, and a bitter civil war all but destroyed the two Orders. The few remaining true Mandalorians were slaughtered by the Jedi, who mistakenly believed they were responsible for some atrocity or other on Galidraan. My father was the last."

He stopped there.

"What happened to your father?" asked Luke.

Fett did not look at him. "A Jedi named Mace Windu," he growled softly. "He beheaded him in the Battle of Geonosis, at the beginning of the Clone Wars."

Profound sympathy flooded Luke's features.

"The Order is dead," he said quietly. "What lies on Mandalore are the remains of our once great legacy, a symbol of how far the mighty can fall."

No one spoke as I landed the ship in the shadow of a plateau, some two kilometers from a set of jagged ruins. The flotsam and jetsam of the vanished Order lay scattered on the rocky, desolate plain – discarded blasters, rusted blades, bleached bones of Lagartoz War Dragons, gutted shells of Basilisk war droids, fragments of body armor, half-crushed helmets, and unidentifiable chunks of electronics and machinery. Our footsteps were careful and hushed as we disembarked, and there was an odd tension to the air, as if we were trespassing in a cemetery or a memorial. Even Jessa, whom we could never get to shut up under most circumstances, was silent.

So this was the site of our next quest, whatever it would be. And now the ring would supposedly lead us to that quest…

But it was silent. No pulse, no burning, no glowing, not even a prickle. Was it, too, subdued by the somber atmosphere of Mandalore? Or was there something else?

Tuck bent down and picked up a peculiar staff, which terminated at one end in dual blades formed from overlapping plates of sharpened, calcified bone. "What's this?" he asked, not daring to speak above a whisper.

"A mythosaur axe," Fett replied. "Mandalore was once covered with the beasts. Mandalore the First and his warriors exterminated them and created weapons from their remains."

Tuck digested this information, then wordlessly extended the axe toward Fett. The hunter hesitated, then took the weapon from him. I thought that perhaps Fett would simply toss it to the ground, but he kept it at his side as we continued walking.

A sharp cry, like a hawk-bat screaming in pain, split the stillness. All eyes turned skyward to see a dark shape as large as a reek cross the blood-red sun overhead.

"What is THAT?" Luke gaped.

He might well ask. The head, neck, and chest of a bird of prey, the ears and hindquarters of a sand panther, powerful forelegs that were scaled from the knees down, and a wingspan as great as an X-wing's…

Fett drew a blaster. "That's not a species native to Mandalore. Some warlord must have imported it. It's possible they escaped and spread…"

"Yes, but what is it?" Luke insisted.

"Nothing I've seen before," Fett replied.

"It's a griffon!" exclaimed Jessa, shielding her eyes against the scarlet sun. "Half lion, half eagle. Nasty beasts. Mythological – at least they're supposed to be."

The griffon landed at the edge of the plateau, folding its wings behind its back like a cloak, sitting as regally as a cat and gazing at us with fierce alien eyes. I had seen eyes like those before, I suddenly realized. The Shadow had a similar gaze, though her eyes were gray and not yellow. Come to think of it, Ash shared those strange eyes as well, and even the Ky-Lin's eyes, though gentle, had that same light in them, as if about to burst into flame…

"What else do you know about them?" asked Luke.

Jessa considered that. "Bits and pieces, mostly – they're not as popular as unicorns and dragons and Jedi and all that. Um, they like gold and can sniff it out even through kilometer-thick layers of stone… nobles would supposedly capture them and use them to guard their treasure stores… they're fond of horsemeat… their claws are supposed to change color when they touch poison, so con men used to make a lot of money by selling cups made out of animal horn to kings and other highborns, claming they were griffon claw…" Her eyes narrowed as she dug deeper for information. "About a week before Dalzor got me, I remember reading this story by Peter S. Beagle about a griffon. Great story, made me cry… but it said something about griffons having two hearts – one eagle, one lion. And to kill the griffon, you had to pierce both hearts."

"So which of that information is correct, and which is fantasy?" I asked.

"All of it is factual," Ash said, speaking up for the first time since we had landed on Mandalore. "All of it and more. Yes, they like gold and have a preference for the flesh of horses. Yes, their talons are sensitive to toxins of all kinds. Yes, they are fiendishly difficult to kill. But there is one more trait of theirs that makes them dangerous."

"Well, spit it out," Tuck advised. "Don't leave us hanging."

"Like dragons, unicorns, phoenixes, and Ky-Lins, griffons are beasts of magic. But they have no actual powers of their own. Rather, they have an insatiable hunger for magic… a bloodlust for any creature with any sort of power in its veins. They can sense the use of magic or the Force from a great distance, even from the far side of a planet, and they will trace that to its source in order to devour the user and his magic."

I clenched my left fist. No wonder the ring had been so quiet.

"During the Sith Wars, the Sith Order once attempted to tame griffons for use as attack beasts, in hopes of decimating the Jedi. The plan backfired when the captured animals turned on their captors and slaughtered over a hundred Sith Warriors, and they abandoned the plan. But the griffons somehow managed to spread from planet to planet – through exotic animal traders, no doubt – and now they have infested thousands of dark corners throughout the galaxy. Dozens of Jedi died from griffon attacks, and even now an unfortunate, ignorant Force-strong goes missing from time to time."

I suddenly recalled a Jedi Master from my days at the Temple, one Iona Grayblade. She had gone missing during a reconnaissance mission during the Clone Wars, and it was weeks before her mangled, claw-marked remains were found. At the time the Jedi had attributed it to the sadism of Grievous, but now, I wondered if her murderer had been another creature entirely.

"We must exercise caution," Ash ordered us. "Do not use the Force or magic unless absolutely necessary. Griffons normally travel in flocks, so do not assume this one is a lone beast. They will be especially attracted to our group, as we have not one, but four among us who have access to some kind of power."

Under the watchful eye of the griffon we continued on. The ruins ahead appeared to be some kind of decrepit fortress, and it was here that we retreated. If the beast did decide to attack, at least the remaining walls would offer some protection.

Fett limped into the building and sat down on a fallen pillar, grunting in pain. "Enough."

Luke gasped in awe. "This place… it's incredible."

Fett nodded. "You should have seen it in its days of glory, before vandals, thieves, and time plundered it. It was a sight then."

"It's a sight now," Jessa marveled, staring down at the mosaic floor beneath her claws. Fragments of matter had been arranged into the shape of the Mandalorian crest. "What's this floor made of, anyhow? It doesn't look like stone or pottery…"

"Chips of bone," Fett replied. "Bone comes in more colors than white and ivory."

Jessa gave a convulsive shudder and leaped onto a block of stone.

This particular chamber of the fortress was, even in its ruined state, quite impressive. Though a section of the ceiling to our right had caved in, littering the floor with rocks and support beams, and gaping holes in the pillars marked where precious stones had been dug out, there was still a visceral, primal beauty here. It was in the bone mosaic floor beneath our feet, in the bas-relief stonework on the walls depicting former Mandalorian heroes, in the enormous statue of a rampant mythosaur in the center of the chamber, stripped of its metal plating and the ruby eyes long snatched away but still a fearsome, awesome sight. I wondered at the legacy contained in this chamber, in the hands that had crafted it and the warriors who had walked its floors.

"Why has no effort been made to restore this place?" I asked.

Fett shrugged. "No one to do it. The Mandalorians are gone. The Republic and Empire had no use for it. No one's interested in it beyond looting it for treasures."

I stared at the masked hunter, suddenly appreciating him for what he was. He was more than a cloned hunter, more than an orphan. He was an heir to a legacy, just as I was. Perhaps his inheritance was not as impressive as a magic ring and a dragon father, but it was noble and great in its own right. His past lay in these chambers… and his destiny, if he would only accept it.

Now I had a strong suspicion as to what must have transpired during Fett's discussion with the Shadow.

Something rattled overhead. Nightwind gave a cry.

"Smell something!" he barked. "Fur and feathers, blood on claws…"

A scaled, taloned limb emerged from the gaping rift in the ceiling and tore it wider.

"Sithspit on a stick!" Jessa screeched.

The griffon slithered through the hole and landed on the mosaic floor, claws rasping against the bone, battle-ready… and very, very hungry.

Luke and I ignited our sabers, prepared to fight. Fett and Tuck drew blasters. Nightwind reared on his hind legs and screamed a battle cry, and Jessa leaped down from her perch and extended her own claws.

Undeterred by our show of force, the griffon charged. I sidestepped its rush and plunged my weapon hilt-deep into its shoulder. It screamed in agony and whirled, snapping its razor-sharp beak centimeters from my ear. Jessa leaped onto its back and dug her claws in, hanging on for all she was worth like a Dathomir horse-breaker. Ash swooped down over and over, slashing at the beast's eyes with her own claws.

"Luke, look out!" cried Tuck.

The griffon's paw just barely missed Luke. Fett and Tuck fired upon the monster, and soon the air reeked with the stench of scorched fur and feathers. Howling its rage, the griffon charged Tuck, but Nightwind blocked its path and slammed a spike-leg into its breast. Boiling black blood spilled from the wound and hit the floor, steaming and staining the bone chips.

The acklay wrenched his leg free and stepped back, satisfied that he had made a kill. But incredibly, the creature kept fighting.

"Two hearts! Two hearts!" Jessa cried out, digging her claws deeper.

I struck again, this time carving a black wound down a hind leg from thigh to ankle that exposed bones the color of ferrocrete. The griffon screamed and lashed out with a foreclaw. I was not so lucky this time – a trail of fire coursed down my left arm as the extended talon cut through the armor and dragged across my skin.

Luke lunged, slashing off the beast's forelimb. It threw its head back with a cry, and Fett took advantage of its distraction to raise the mythosaur axe and bury it in the griffon's chest.

The beast collapsed but took its time dying, thrashing and screaming and flailing, determined to the last to have our blood. Fett kept hacking, cutting into the griffon until the brown fur and feathers were slickly black with its own ichor. Only when the monster breathed its last did he wrench the axe from its flesh and stagger away.

"Hard to kill, check," moaned Jessa. "If I still had a stomach, I'd throw up."

Ash screeched. "The ceiling!"

Two more griffons, one gray, the other jet-black, were investigating the hole. I threw one arm forward in a focusing gesture, and several supporting beams crashed down to seal off the rift.

"Oh brother, the door!" Tuck shouted.

This time it was Luke who acted, using the Force to topple an already-unsteady pillar and let it fall to block the entrance. The griffons were sealed out.

Unfortunately, that meant we were also sealed in.

Nightwind lifted a foreleg and dug a small hole in one wall, far too small to admit a griffon but large enough to allow us a good view of the outside world. What I saw was not comforting.

The building was swarming with griffons – black, brown, tan, ocher, silver, white, gray, gold, calico, piebald. They screeched their hunger and hovered about the building like carrion flies about a corpse, tearing at the stone with their claws and hissing frustration at being denied a feast. Beyond the beasts, I could see our ship… in ruins. The griffons were smarter than they looked, and they had rent the space yacht into scrap to ensure we had no way off Mandalore.

"We ain't got a snowball's chance on Mustafar of getting off this dirt clod," said Jessa gravely, summing up our predicament as only she could.


	16. Hunter: Claw and Blade

**Chapter XV – Hunter: Claw and Blade**

Luke sat down on a fallen pillar with a great sigh. "Now what? We can't possibly hope to fight them all off."

"Got a detonator, Fett?" asked Jessa hopefully. "We can blast 'em…"

He shook his head. "Used my last one on the sarlaac. Besides, there's too many of them."

"Ash can set them on fire," suggested Nightwind, cocking his head toward the phoenix.

But Ash tilted her head forward in a negative gesture. "I could, at the most, ignite three or four of the beasts at a time. They are swift and strong; I would be devoured before I could make a significant gap in the ranks."

Tuck paced the bloodstained floor anxiously, hands on his helmet. I caught a muttered snippet that sounded like "why did we come here anyway?" Normally the trooper had an even temper, but he, like the rest of us, was edgy and frustrated from our current predicament.

"I suggest," Ash said at length, "that we quiet our minds and consider the problem at hand. Everyone seat yourselves in a circle and think. If any suggestions or ideas come to mind, voice them. At the moment, any plan, no matter how outlandish, will be considered."

Obediently we sat, crouched, or knelt in a ring and began discussing a means of exiting the wrecked Mandalorian fortress. One by one suggestions were brought forth, scrutinized carefully, and discarded as unfeasible. Some ideas entailed sacrificing one member of the group or another – an option we could not take, as the Shadow had specifically warned us that we must remain a group if we were to succeed. Other plans seemed reasonable enough, but we did not have the supplies to carry them out. With pitifully few resources to work with, it seemed our options were a suicide attack against the entire flock or a slow death by starvation.

Fett, I noticed, was silent. But then, he was usually silent, so I did not think much on it.

At one point, Nightwind interrupted the brainstorm session with a plaintive whimper. "I'm famished. Stomach feels like it's sticking to my backbone…"

"Eat the griffon, then," Jessa suggested testily.

The acklay turned to the still-steaming corpse and sank his jaws into one haunch. Immediately he jerked away and shook his head violently, spitting and coughing.

"Are you all right?" I asked, shooting to my feet.

"Tastes rotten!" he complained, wiping furiously at his muzzle. "Not like meat at all! More like starship grease. And burns my mouth."

"It's not poisonous, is it?" asked Luke.

"No," Ash assured him. "But all the same, I would not suggest any of the rest of us attempt to sample it. The only creatures I have ever witnessed eating a griffon are a sarlaac and, several times, another griffon."

Fett tilted his head to one side as if in interest. "They're cannibals?"

"If another member of their flock is injured or trapped, and if no other food is available, yes, they will turn on and devour the incapacitated griffon," she replied.

He nodded. "Interesting." He traced the edge of the mythosaur axe with a fingertip. "Very interesting."

"Are you going to let us know what's going on in that helmet of yours?" asked Luke hopefully.

Fett remained silent a moment longer. "I have an idea… it may not work… and I'm not sure exactly how to execute it…"

We waited with breathless anticipation, as if our very lives depended on his next words… and perhaps they did.

He spoke one word: "Rope."

"Rope?" Jessa and Tuck repeated at once.

"Rope." He reached for his grappling-hook launcher and pulled the cord out until it was fully extended. Examining the entire length, he shook his head with a mutter, then carefully rubbed it against the blade of his axe until he had severed it. "This will do for starters, but it's not enough. I need more."

"Where are we going to get rope?" asked Luke.

"Doesn't have to be rope, does it?" asked Jessa. "Can we use wire, fibercord…"

"So long as it's strong," Fett replied. He rapped one foot against the floor. "Primitive as this fortress seems, it had electricity at one time. And beneath this floor runs cables and wires of all sizes…"

It was a shame to pry up the beautiful mosaic floor, but we had to concede that our lives took precedence over artistry at the moment. Luke and I sliced the bone-crusted stone into manageable blocks with our lightsabers, and Nightwind lifted the blocks away to expose the cables Fett had spoken of. Jessa, Tuck, and Ash set to work cutting and pulling up wires – a job that would have been dangerous save the fact that power probably had not run through these wires for hundreds of years. Fett assumed the role of a supervisor, pointing out which cables he deemed strong enough for whatever plot he had in mind, rejecting any that were too thick or too weak.

"What are you planning on doing?" Luke asked at last. "Making a net?"

Fett shook his head. "We could never make a net that big in time." He surveyed the collection of wires and cables we had collected. "Good enough. Now for the next step." He pointed to the dead griffon. "Cut off its claws."

Now thoroughly perplexed, I bent down to the severed forelimb of the beast and examined the talons. Wickedly hooked, as long as the hilt of my lightsaber, and sharp enough to slice through bone, they would make formidable weapons. Though what sorts of weapons Fett planned to create with these was beyond me.

"Okaaaayyyyyy," Jessa said in a tone that suggested she thought Fett had slipped off the deep end. "Got a knife, genius?"

Fett pulled a blade from his boot and handed it over without a word.

Fifteen minutes later, a grand total of eighteen talons lay at Fett's feet – four from each forepaw, five from each hindpaw. He took a length of cord and carefully tied a claw to one end.

"We'll need a rope, cord, or cable attached to each talon," he explained. "Nightwind, you and I will cut up the griffon body. We'll need eighteen pieces. Try to get them thick enough to hide a claw inside."

"Oh, I get it," Jessa said at last. "We're fishing for griffons!"

I smiled beneath my mask, new confidence rising as I realized Fett's intentions. Brilliant. The beasts outside the fortress had worked themselves into a starving frenzy, and by now they must be ravenous enough to devour anything that presented itself… even a chunk of its brethren with a hook buried inside. And once it took the bait, it would be ensnared, easy prey for the others…

"Gross!" Nightwind hissed, raising one sticky foreleg and glowering at the black ichor clinging to the limb. "Smelled bad already, but it's worse on the inside!"

"Just like tauntauns," Luke said with a knowing grin. I did not dare ask how he knew that but continued working.

One by one we readied lines, baited them, and secured the free ends to various pillars. By this time we were all exhausted and covered in griffon's blood, which did not seem to dry but instead congealed like glue on our skin, clothing, and armor. But if putting up with the mess meant a shot at freedom…

"Finished," Luke said with a relieved sigh, wiping his gummed hands on his pant legs.

Fett looked ready to collapse from exhaustion, spattered from helmet to boots with ichor and the axe in his hands dragging on the floor as if made from lead rather than bone. But he refused to stop for a rest, but gestured at the wall nearest Luke.

"Get ready," he urged. "Nightwind, dig a hole."

The acklay slammed a foreleg into the wall. Almost the instant he removed the limb from the puncture, a hooked beak thrust itself through, screeching and snapping.

"Now!" Fett shouted.

Luke picked up a baited line and swung it at the griffon. Predictably, the hideous beak clamped closed over the proffered meat, withdrawing to swallow it. The line trailed out after the beast, then went taut. A horrible shriek filled the air as the creature felt the pain of the hook in its jaw and realized it was ensnared.

"More, and fast!" Fett ordered.

Jessa pushed a baited line through a crack in the wall, and another griffon instantly took it. I flung a line through a rift in the ceiling, and an answering cry signaled that it, too, was taken. The clamor of wings and screeches and claws outside became a horrible roar as the monsters turned on their trapped comrades. My stomach turned at the sound… but I had to remind myself that these were beasts, animals, not worth our lives…

"That's the last one!" shouted Tuck.

"Outside!" Fett ordered. "Now! While they're distracted!"

Nightwind turned to the nearest wall and rammed it with his shoulder. The already weak stone crumbled as easily as porcelain under the blow, collapsing in a flume of dust. Using the rising cloud of silt as cover, we vacated the ruins.

"Keep going!" Fett barked, sounding less like a bounty hunter and more like a drill sergeant. "This way! Hurry!"

I turned for a final look at the ruins, and immediately I wished I hadn't. Well over fifty of the winged monsters thrashed and bucked in violent battle around the ruins, tearing savagely at their trapped brothers and at each other, shredding the air itself with their cries. Blood and carnage, survival of the fittest at its furthest extreme…

And there were those in the galaxy that made sport of such horrors?

"VADER, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" shrieked Ash. "DON'T STOP TO GAWK, WE'RE NOT OUT OF THIS YET!"

I shook myself out of my trance and followed the others.

"Hurry, we're not out of the fire yet," panted Tuck. "We have to find a ship."

"Where are we going to find a ship here?" Luke demanded.

"Hidden hangars… in the cliffs," Fett replied between gasps for air. "Father and I… used to visit… this place…" He stumbled and almost went sprawling, but caught himself at the last minute and kept running. "Should still be… a working ship there…"

An eerie scream drowned out whatever he had to say next. Not all the griffons had been duped by Fett's distraction, and several were trailing us, far more tempted at the prospect of a feast of magic-wielding beings than by the paltry substitute of their own brethren.

A shadow passed over us. One was swooping down for the kill…

I ignited my saber, and as a smoke-gray beast landed just before me and tensed to spring, I let my momentum carry me forward and buried my weapon to the hilt in its chest. Before it had a chance to jerk in pain, let alone retaliate, I slashed swiftly to one side, then to the other, ensuring that I vaporized both hearts. Yanking the weapon free, I sidestepped the death-flailing limbs and ran to catch up with the others.

A second griffon extended its talons as if to snatch Ash out of the air. Her entire body seemed to glow red-gold for an instant, and in a heartbeat her attacker burst into flame. Screaming, the scorched beast plummeted to the earth like a felled starfighter.

Fett staggered to the base of the plateau and fell against the stone, totally winded. "Behind this rock… there's a door here… have to find the right spot…"

"Hurry and find it, then!" Luke shouted, drawing his own saber. "Or we're lunch!"

Wearily Fett ran his hands over the stone, seeking a crack, a fissure...

Another griffon landed and faced Nightwind, hissing its rage. The acklay reared and waved his forelegs threateningly, but the griffon was unfazed. The two beasts tangled a moment, claws tearing and teeth slashing, until the creature's beak sank into his shoulder…

A horrible, ear-splitting screech filled the air. At once all fighting ceased, and Luke, Fett, Tuck, and I clutched our heads as the infernal shriek drilled through our skulls like a vibroblade. The griffon attacking Nightwind released his prey and thrashed in pain, and the other griffons cried out in agony, their bodies contorted in torture. Through my fog of pain, I realized the beasts' greatest strength was also their greatest weakness – the acute hearing typical of felines, which enabled them to find prey but also made them all the more vulnerable to an attack such as this.

Only Jessa seemed unfazed. She bolted past me and to the cliff face, located a suspicious crack that ran perfectly perpendicular to the ground, and wrenched aside the slab of faux stone that made up the hangar door. The horrible sound seemed to intensify with her proximity, and with a shock I realized it was coming from her.

"Everyone in!" she shouted, and as soon as she spoke the screeching mercifully quieted.

In the darkness of the hangar I could just make out the outline of a ship – a blockade runner. And for the first time since coming to Mandalore, I felt the ring burn. It approved of this vehicle as the fourth ship.

"Nightwind's hurt," Tuck informed me.

I went to the whimpering acklay's side, bypassing a still-twisting griffon to reach him. He had definitely suffered the worst injuries in his battle with the creature – claw wounds to the face and chest, a deep bite to his shoulder, and a limb that had been nearly severed by the beast's wicked beak. I stroked Nightwind's neck to calm him, touching the ring to the worst of the wounds. Gold stars filled my vision, the ring glowed like a silvered fire, and the cuts and gashes closed with no signs of scars.

"C'mon, on the ship!" Fett barked.

Nightwind butted me in thanks, then scuttled toward the blockade runner. I was close behind.

"Are you sure this thing still works?" asked Luke. "It looks like no one's used it for years…"

"Trust me, it works," Fett snarled. "Vader, get us out of here!"

I threw myself in the pilot's seat, powered the ship up, and punched the throttle the moment the sublight engines were online. The remaining griffons scattered before the ship as it tore across the blood-red sky and soared into space.

Mandalore dropped away beneath us, a sphere of scarlet that filled the viewscreen with a fiery glow before the star-streaked brilliance of hyperspace replaced it.

Fett collapsed, wheezing, not even protesting when Luke and Tuck dragged him to a medical cot and cleaned him up as best they could. He had pushed himself to the very edge of his endurance on this adventure, and he would probably pay for it over the next few days. But he was alive – as well as the rest of us. That was all that mattered.

Though I'm sure the experience was a sobering one for Fett, for it revealed the extent of his weakness… and confirmed the fact that his hunting days were likely over.

"Jessa, how did you do that?" asked Luke.

"Do what?" she asked.

"That noise. I didn't know you could do that."

"Neither did I. Didn't happen until Fett socked me in the breastbone. Well, I don't have a breastbone anymore, but same place."

"I fought Grievous once," Fett explained in a weary voice. "He had the ability to unleash an auditory assault by activating something in his chest. I assumed that, as Jessa's droid body was created by the same scientist that designed Grievous, she would have a similar device."

Jessa stared down at her droid torso, impressed. "Cool."

"Well, that's three quests down," Luke said with a sigh. "Four more to go."

Four more to go. The thought was daunting… and not a little frightening.

I was not surprised to notice that, after this adventure, Fett was no longer reluctant to accept the medication offered to him on Ryloth. Nor did I think it very odd that he kept the mythosaur axe at his side for the remainder of our journey.


	17. Soldier: City Of Fire

**Chapter XVI – Soldier: City Of Fire**

We landed the blockade runner on the first inhabited world we could find in order to replenish our supplies, then resumed our journey. I had no idea what lay in store for us at our next destination, though I suspected it could not be pleasant. Even if we had not been on this strange quest, we still traveled during dangerous times. The galaxy was in turmoil, the Empire in disarray, the Rebellion reeling under the sudden responsibility of constructing a new government, warlords and despots grabbing what they could from the ruins… and innocents finding themselves caught in the crossfire.

But for now, we knew a time of relative peace. The days blurred together, and for all I knew the journey could have been a day or a decade, or any length of time in between. After the chaos that we had faced on Mandalore, it was good to have a respite.

Not that nothing changed on that journey. On the contrary, we were all changing, altering subtly, almost imperceptibly. For some, the transformation was visible immediately – Fett was slowly growing stronger and no longer grunted with pain at every movement; Ash no longer neglected her appearance, and her plumage, though still a nondescript muddy color, became glossy and straight and dust-free; Nightwind added centimeters to his height daily, his muscles developed, and he shed his deciduous teeth at such a rate that I found myself stepping on at least one every day.

But for all of us, there was a greater change – our bonds. Before we had thought of ourselves as merely traveling companions; now, we acted and thought as a cohesive whole. If one of us was in pain, we all sensed it. If one of us felt depressed or upset, everyone felt it and did something about it. Whereas before all we could think about was completing the quests and dividing to seek our destinies, now the thought of our fellowship parting ways was unthinkable. Whether it was the journey and quests that were binding us or the power of the ring, who could say?

The journey gave us time for discussion, reflection, and contemplation… and in my case, time to complete the record I had begun at the Shadow's.

"It's just mind-boggling," Luke was saying as I shut the journal after another writing session. "I can't imagine what it would be like to live forever. I mean, I've never looked much farther than a year or two from now. I can't even fathom a thousand years from now, or a million…"

"Or two million, or ten," Ash replied, looking up from grooming her breast feathers. "No, the mortal mind is not designed to fully encompass the concept of infinity. Oh, scientists throw the word around with merry abandon, sure, but do they really _know _what they are describing? Only an immortal, one with at least a chance of eternal life, can fully appreciate the concept… and know what price is to be paid for immortality."

"Watching all you know and love pass on," murmured Tuck from where he sat with his back against a crate, staring into space with an oddly contemplative look. "Watching the world you know crumble and flake away, to be replaced with something just as ephemeral, just as fragile… loving and losing…" He seemed to come back to himself and turned to address Ash directly. "Do immortals love? And does love truly last forever?"

Ash rippled her wings in a shrug. "To answer the last question, it depends on your definition of love. Infatuation, lust, sexual attraction – no, they do not. Desires of the flesh only last as long as the flesh itself, and sometimes not even that long. Eyes dim, hair grays and thins, skin wrinkles, slim and graceful bodies do not remain so. But true love, love borne of deepest friendship and ultimate sacrifice, love that transcends outward appearances and reaches the heart… no, it never dies. But that knowledge does not dull the loss when a loved one passes on, or when one side of the partnership decides to terminate that love. And perhaps worse is when immortal loves mortal…" Here her amber eyes darkened, as if she knew this from experience.

"Let's change the subject," Jessa suggested gently.

"You know," Nightwind said, folding his forelegs and resting his chin on them, "we never heard what exactly it is Vader seeks on this quest. Have you figured it out yet?"

I hesitated, then decided there could be no harm in telling. "The Shadow informed me that my father lives. I hope to seek him out… and learn how my mother died. According to the Shadow, only he knows."

Fett cocked his head at a puzzled angle. "Wouldn't the Shadow know?"

"She states that there are two possible fates Talitha could have met," I replied. "Death at the hands of the Dragon Council, or a natural death. But she does not know which…"

"She told us from the start that one of her only strong powers was Scrying," Fett interrupted. "And that she could scry the past as well as the present. You'd think she would have scryed the answer at some point."

I opened my mouth to retort, only to find my mind wiped blank with surprise. I had not even stopped to consider that! Yet the Shadow could look into the past; we had all watched her do it at the table that first day. Then how could she claim that there was no way to find out my mother's fate, aside from consulting my father?

Did the Shadow know what had happened to Summer-Talitha? Had she concealed it from me for some reason? Or had she never found out, thinking that detail unimportant? Then again, she had concealed the fact that her father had been responsible for the Dragon Council turning on my own parents…

"Dude, if you think any harder, steam'll shoot out of your helmet," Jessa suggested. "Chill a little. All you have to do is talk to the Shadow again after this is all over."

"If only all our desires could be fulfilled that easily," Tuck murmured.

I gave a mental sigh and let the matter go. Once this journey had come to an end, I intended to have a long discussion with the Shadow. Until then…

"What about you, Jessa?" I asked, deciding to shift the spotlight to someone else. "You desire a body. How do you think that can be accomplished?"

"People donate their bodies for organ donation and scientific study, don't they?" she asked. "They do on my planet. If someone donates their entire body to science… it won't be my old body, but hey, maybe I'll get lucky and get a supermodel's body."

"Maybe you'll get really lucky and get a choice," Luke suggested.

"Or maybe you'll get unlucky and get a Gamorrean's body," Fett smirked. "It'll be an improvement over your droid body."

"Hey!" Jessa retorted while the rest of us burst into laughter.

"Fett, was that a JOKE from you?" I snickered.

Jessa rolled her eyes. "Believe me, I could tell Boba Fett jokes, but none of them are clean…"

"Spare us," Fett groaned.

At that moment an alarm chimed in the cockpit. We were approaching our destination. I stood and retreated to the pilot's seat to land the ship.

"Where are we now?" asked Nightwind.

"Wayland," I replied. "Moderately populated, mostly mountain and swamp terrain. Agricultural planet, major exports are food, organic fuel, and textiles. Imperial planet but no stationed starfleets. One military base, in the capitol."

"Any scary animals?" Nightwind asked with a shudder.

"I sense no power of any sort," Ash assured him. "You will not be attacked by a griffon or kraken or any other beast of magic."

"What's a kraken?" asked Luke, then thought better of the question. "Wait, never mind. I don't want to know."

"Believe me, you don't," Jessa agreed.

I selected a small town some five hundred kilometers from the capitol as our destination. We landed on the outskirts of a settlement roughly twice the size of Mos Espa, surrounded by marshy fields of aquatic edible plants. Luke, Fett, and Tuck changed into clothing that would not make them stand out, I restored the illusion that kept my own identity concealed, and we ventured outside. Nightwind followed close behind, drawing plenty of stares but thankfully not causing a panic… not yet, at least.

"What now?" asked Tuck. "The ring giving you any ideas?"

I concentrated. The ring pulsed gently, not giving an alert of any kind yet, but listening, absorbing the surroundings in an effort to find our next quest.

"Not yet," I replied. "It will notify us when we come across our next quest, however."

Most of the houses in this town were modest but well-kept – freshly painted, carefully maintained, with tiny yards or box gardens providing color… and clean, very clean. Vehicles of every variety, from antiquated bantha-drawn wheeled carts to heavy-duty landspeeders, carried loads of harvested goods, waste earth, and other raw materials through the streets. Just ahead, scaffolding had been set up around a three-story tenement in order to make repairs to the building façade. Somewhere I could hear the clang and buzz of machinery, a sign of some kind of construction project underway. And towering over the town like some great sentinel was a great slate-blue mountain, its snow-crusted peak crowned with a gun turret of some kind – definitely newly installed, for it hadn't been here on my last visit a year ago.

The unrest that engulfed the rest of the galaxy seemed to have touched even this small farming community – whispered rumors, nervous expressions, reluctance to part with credits, increased skittishness as stormtroopers marched past, intent on some unseen goal. Our arrival seemed to only increase the tension, and suspicious looks followed us wherever we went. Everything I saw and sensed indicated that, whatever the situation here, it would reach critical mass very soon.

"Wonder what's the problem?" muttered Luke.

"I wish I knew," I replied. "This is not a vital system to the Empire."

"News flash," Jessa ordered. "The Empire's falling apart. EVERY Imperial system's a vital system now."

She had a valid point. The Empire had been grasping before, but now, with systems defecting to the Rebellion every day, it would cling valiantly to every remaining system with a death grip.

"What kind of plant is that?" asked Nightwind, lowering his head to sniff at a stalk that had fallen off the back of a speeder. Woody stem, tough tapered leaves veined with blue, a fist-sized fruit with a hard green skin…

Jessa bent down and retrieved it. "Looks like a cornstalk. But what's this weird fruit?"

"It's a seed pod," Fett replied. "That's an elio plant. Harvest the plant before the seed pod has fully ripened, crush both the stalk and the pod, press out the oil, refine it, and you have an organic fuel ten times as powerful as anything the Empire uses."

"Whoa," Luke breathed. "Then why isn't it used more often?"

"Costs too much," was Fett's answer. "Elio only grows on moist, cold worlds like Wayland, and it's expensive to process."

"And only specially designed engines can burn it as fuel," I added. "The Empire would have to completely redesign its war machines to use elio fuel. At the moment, only a few luxury vehicles use it."

"I notice that it keeps Wayland's people in the money," Tuck noted. "Besides, can't you modify an engine to accept elio fuel?"

"Again, it is expensive, but it can be done," I replied.

"Maybe that's another reason why the Empire doesn't want to lose Wayland," Tuck mused. "They need a ready source of fuel for their ships and walkers…"

"When you've finished with the conspiracy theories, Tuck, we can secure lodgings for the night," Ash said a little testily. "The nights on Wayland get very cold."

"Very well," sighed Tuck resignedly. "There's an inexpensive hotel three streets off the main road, if you must know…"

He was right, as usual, and after some haggling we acquired a room at a reasonable rate and some space in the underground parking garage for Nightwind. Though the manager was wary of our presence, his wife – who could easily make three of her husband but had features that indicated she had been quite the catch in her youth – seemed cheered by our presence.

"Don't often get much business around harvest season," she told me. "And the Imperials nosing around have been scaring off customers as well. They're restless, I tell you, don't ask me why."

"You haven't heard the news?" asked Tuck.

"Course I have, the Emperor's dead! Don't tell me the man didn't have the sense to name an heir!"

"He did not," I replied. "The Empire is in chaos. The Rebellion is seeking to form a new government, but the Empire is proving to be an obstinate pest to exterminate."

She snorted. "Tell the Rebellion we've got some bugs here for them to spray, mates. Searching rooms here for no blooming reason, confiscating harvests, arresting people for making a scene… pathetic, really. Don't they have better things to do than harassing us folk just trying to make a living?"

"The Empire may have been cruel," Tuck said, choosing his words carefully. "But not all Imperials are bad. Some honestly believe they're working for a good cause. And some just follow orders."

"Hmph! Don't they think about their orders 'fore they go terrorizing people? You boys are welcome to join us for supper," she invited, changing the subject on us. "My oldest girl, she makes a great grazer-meat gumbo… takes three days to make, but you ain't lived 'til you tasted it…"

And she turned her back on Tuck – which was for the best, since his expression would have been a definite tip-off that her careless words had struck a nerve.

_Break…_

To this day I am still not sure which awakened me – the explosions that rent the night, or the stab of the ring.

"We're under attack!" came a scream as the hotel manager pounded on the door. "Get out now! Troopers are raiding the building!"

"Whazzat?" grumbled Luke, rolling out of bed. "What's going on?"

Another blast, and as if in answer the entire building shuddered ominously.

"Halt!" Stormtroopers just outside the door! "Step away from the door, sir!"

"Go to hell!" the manager spat, and a solid clang echoed through the hall as he struck one of the soldiers with something heavy. Then a horrible series of sizzling cracks as the rest of the troops opened fire on him.

"Out the window!" Luke shouted.

It was fortunate that our room was on the ground floor of the building. By the time the stormtroopers had unlocked our door and charged inside, the last of us had vacated the chamber.

"What the frickin'…" Jessa gasped.

The town was in flames. What buildings were not blazing madly were smoking ominously, the foliage outside the once-beautiful homes wilting under the heat. Panicked citizens and beasts of burden filled the streets, some fleeing on foot, others lurching away in vehicles, either their own or stolen. Some brave souls were exchanging fire with the Imperial troops, but they were so severely outnumbered that the action was proving suicidal. Even as we watched, stunned, the hotel we had just vacated was set afire, flames billowing from a second-story window.

"The manager's wife!" Tuck realized. "She and her family are still in there!"

"And so's Nightwind!" Jessa shrieked.

"Tuck, you have to find that woman and her children," Luke ordered. "Jessa and I'll go with you. Father, Fett, Ash, you go get Nightwind. Hurry!"

Incredibly, the anarchy that had gripped the town had not even disturbed the acklay, and it took a desperate kick to the ribs to urge him awake.

"What was that for?" he demanded groggily.

"We have to get out!" I told him. "The building's on fire!"

"Safe down here," he countered. "Flames won't reach us…"

"If the flames don't get you, stormtroopers will!" Fett snapped.

That decided it. Nightwind's previous experience with stormtroopers had resulted in the death of one of his siblings. He scrambled to his feet and followed us out.

Outside, the others appeared to have made it out safely, accompanied by the manager's wife, her sobbing teenage daughter, and three small girls who had no idea what was going on but were hysterical simply because their older sister was. Everyone was covered with soot and ash but fine. At Jessa's feet lay the manager's body, no doubt retrieved upon his wife's request.

"I knew this would happen someday," the woman said gravely, seeming surprisingly calm for one who had just lost her husband and business in one night. "It wasn't a question of if, but when."

"When what?" Tuck asked, stunned. "How could you know this would happen?"

"Think about it, bonehead," snarled Fett. "The Empire needs energy to power their ships and walkers. And if they have exclusive access to a powerful energy source, they can very well stand a fighting chance against the Alliance. And if they control the elio fields directly instead of having to deal with farmers and merchants…"

"But why would the Empire attack its own citizens…" Tuck seemed still very much in denial that his own brothers, that the organization he had supported for so long, could do such a thing.

"Look around you!" Ash ordered. "The Empire has – and IS – destroying its own people! Will we all just stand around and discuss the particulars while innocent people die?"

Another explosion shook the earth. The ring burned painfully, and I felt my gaze drawn toward the mountain's crest. The cannon… it was launching, not energy emissions, but missiles of some kind… flame-carpet missiles, devastating weapons that spread fiery death…

I shuddered, and not from the cold of the night.

The tenement building behind me collapsed. The ring stabbed again.

"People are trapped in there," I told the others. "We have to help them out!"

No one questioned Nightwind's presence now – rather, they welcomed the acklay's muscle as he shouldered aside steel beams and ferrocrete slabs to get at the injured. The rest of us directed his movements to keep him from further harming those trapped in the rubble, retrieved the injured and dead, and tended to wounds. I was grateful for the ring's presence, though I was careful to use it only on the worst injuries, and only when no one was watching.

"AT-ST walker on its way down the street!" reported Jessa.

"Is that everyone?" asked a Twi'lek gentleman, lowering a body to the street.

A quick count proved that one was still missing – a young boy, only five. His mother began screaming in terror, clawing at the ruins, calling for others to help her. My heart ached for her, but we had no more time to search for the child. I gripped her arm and tried to pull her from the wreckage…

"Find him!" she pleaded. "Please find my boy! He's all I have since his father died…"

Tuck stood suddenly, an odd expression on his face. He turned and ran down the street, climbing into an abandoned speeder. I wondered if he had decided to desert our party and rejoin the Empire, gift or no gift…

"Found him!"

The woman nearly collapsed with relieved sobs as Tuck pulled a small boy from the speeder's back seat. The child appeared scared but uninjured, and I guessed that he had retreated at the first sign of trouble and hidden himself in the vehicle.

"Let's run!" Jessa shouted. "They're gonna shoot us or fry us if we don't get out of town!"

"No," Tuck said firmly, handing the boy back to his mother. "It won't help anything. If we're to stop this madness, we have to fight back."

"With what?" demanded the Twi'lek. "We can't fight the Empire! They have us outgunned…"

Tuck stared up at the mountain, watching the great silhouette of the cannon launch another glowing projectile. "Then we get rid of their advantage. We eliminate the gun."

I just stared at him, amazed at this sudden change.

"Back to the ship," he ordered. "We need to get to the top of the mountain. And fast."


	18. Soldier: Battle on the Peak

**Chapter XVII – Soldier: Battle on the Peak**

The blockade runner skimmed low over the blazing city, the smoke and flame cloaking it from the eyes of those operating the cannon. I kept a firm hand on the controls, cautious of sudden bursts of fire and back drafts. Upon reaching the lower slopes of the mountain, I pulled back hard, and the ship's engines groaned in protest as the runner ascended the incline.

Tuck looked over my shoulder out the viewscreen, his entire body tensed as if about to spring. "Closer," he urged. "Closer… Luke, we need you to man the guns…"

"Copy," Luke replied.

Less than a minute later we reached the peak. Squatting in the frost-crusted stone like some mechanical predatory beast was the gun turret, a cruel behemoth that launched fiery missiles at the defenseless city below. The muzzle of the cannon was nearly glowing with the heat of its fire, and the snow and ice had melted in a wide circle just around it. Even as we watched, the entire contraption rumbled, lurched like a retching creature, and belched forth another foul round.

My blood boiled at the sight of this depravity. If the weapon had been firing upon an invading army, it might have been one thing, but the only thing that lay below the mountain was a city of defenseless farmer folk. Never mind that I was guilty of immolating entire cities myself – that seemed a lifetime ago. Before I might not have cared, but now, to watch as a few conspiring, uncaring men slaughtered hundreds of innocents to further their own agendas was sickening.

Those manning the cannon must have seen us, for the entire contraption swiveled to take aim at our ship.

Luke fired upon the gun turret, and sparks rained down its sides from each impact. Black blotches marked impact points, but from the brief look I obtained before I was forced to evade a missile, I could see no damage inflicted.

"That armor's too thick!" Luke shouted in frustration.

"Try a torpedo!" Fett advised.

"This ship is not equipped with torpedoes!" I replied.

"Then we'll have to switch to Plan B," Tuck told us. "Vader, fake a glancing hit and land the ship."

I jerked the controls once to simulate a malfunction, then brought the blockade runner down. The seven of us hurriedly disembarked, rushing toward the doors allowing access to the interior of the weapon.

"Now what, genius?" demanded Jessa.

"Now we infiltrate," Tuck replied, unfazed by the cyborg girl's sarcasm. "Luke, Vader, one of you anyway, your lightsabers might be just the thing to cut through the doors."

I ignited my blade and plunged it hilt-deep through the iron doors, dragging it through the metal to slice the barrier apart. The doors collapsed, and we picked our way through molten-edged fragments and entered.

Two guards jerked their weapons from their holsters and took aim. Ash glowed red-gold for an instant, and the blasters burst into flame. Startled, the troopers dropped the melting weapons and raised their arms in surrender. Fett ordered them into a supply closet and locked them in, and we continued on our way.

"Are you going to explain your plan?" asked Luke.

"We need to get to the control room first," Tuck replied.

Nightwind squawked in dismay. "Can't fit through the door!"

"That's all right, you're needed outside anyhow," Tuck assured him. "It's your job to keep anyone else from getting in. Understood?"

He nodded. "Can I eat them?"

"No," I ordered.

"Just one?"

"No!" Despite my ability to communicate with the acklay and the peculiar friendship we had established, he was still not human but an animal. And once an animal acquired a taste for human flesh, there was no breaking them of it. The beast would continue to hunt humans until it was slain. If I permitted Nightwind to devour a stormtrooper, it would be his death eventually.

We left him outside and continued on, climbing a spiral staircase that clanged metallically with every footstep. So much for sneaking in…

The control room was packed with over a dozen troopers and several technicians. A technician whirled in his chair and spotted us, and he shouted an order. The troopers drew their blasters and took aim.

"Luke, Vader, in front," hissed Tuck. "Block as much of their fire as you can!"

I stepped forward and ignited my saber again. Luke stood at my side, his own weapon ready.

"They're Jedi!" exclaimed a technician, blanching.

The troopers opened fire. I felt the Force engulf me, sink into my muscles and bones, take control of me as it had countless times before. I did not resist, allowing it access, letting it direct me rather than attempting to direct it. The weapon in my hands moved almost of its own accord, deflecting the shots as easily as if I had been swatting flies.

On my left, Luke was doing much the same, blocking blaster fire and shielding Fett and Tuck as they exchanged fire with the troopers. Jessa and Ash took advantage of the troopers' distraction to make their way to the controls. The technicians fumbled for blasters, but a flicker of Ash's power destroyed their weapons instantly.

The last trooper fell to the ground, a smoking hole in his chest. Tuck stared at his fallen brothers for a long, tense moment, then he pointed his weapon at the technicians. "Do you surrender?"

"We do," replied one who had reluctantly assumed the role of ringleader.

"Fett, Ash, stand guard over them," Tuck ordered. He turned to where Jessa had appropriated a chair. "How's your aim?"

"Never shot a gun in my life," she replied.

"Then out of the chair," Tuck advised. "We're taking command of this cannon."

"I'm afraid that won't be possible," the tech leader replied in a cool voice.

Tuck turned to regard him. "Why not?"

"There's the matter of the password," he replied. "A password must be entered every time the cannon is fired. It slows things down a bit, but it ensures that the gun cannot be misused if it falls into the wrong hands." He gave a triumphant smile.

"Wipe the grin off," Fett advised, raising a fist to the man's face, "or I'll do it for you."

"Hit me," the tech dared. "Do what you will. It won't help you."

"If it helps us get the password out of you, why not?" Jessa asked, raising her own fist.

"Jessa, we're not going to torture them," Luke told her sternly.

"I wasn't going to torture them, just smack 'em around a little…" she shot back.

"Jessa…" Luke said warningly.

"Yes, Father," she grumbled, slinking away.

Tuck turned to me. "This puts a hitch in our plans, but if you were to show them your true nature…"

For the first time since I had discovered the ring's illusionary power, I was more than willing to drop the disguise. I felt the illusion abate, like a cloak suddenly falling from my shoulders, and I stood before the men in my true form.

Every face drained of blood, and a man in the back gagged fearfully. The ringleader opened his mouth, but no sound emerged.

"The password," I said simply.

The leader opened his mouth once or twice before he could gather his voice and respond. "Two-two-three-eight-see-dee-oh," he said in an unusually high register.

"Thank you." I turned back to Tuck. "You may fire when ready."

Tuck sat in the chair, operated a few dials to adjust the aim of the cannon, and punched in the password. Then he brought his hand down on the fire button.

The entire turret shuddered with the power of the launch, and a blazing comet arced over the ruined city. The sight of yet another flame-carpet missile must have terrified the citizens, but this time the target was not their town… but the Imperial base at the capitol. The missile dropped steadily to the ground and impacted over five hundred kilometers away with a fountain of brilliant flame.

Luke whooped. "Show the Imperials how it feels to play defense!"

Tuck fired twice more for good measure, than turned to Ash. "How close to something do you have to be to set fire to it?"

"I can easily ignite an object a kilometer away," she replied. "Any farther than that and it takes more energy. I have never attempted creating a fire farther away than five kilometers."

Tuck made some swift calculations. "Okay then, back to the ship." He waved a casual hand at the technicians. "Bring them along as prisoners."

We exited the turret, herding the dazed technicians along. Tuck made us pause a moment while he retrieved the two troopers we had locked in the closet, insisting we bring them along as captives. Once we had boarded the ship and were a good distance away from the cannon, Tuck turned to Ash.

"Whenever you're ready," Tuck told her.

A flash of red-gold… and the entire mountain trembled as the cannon's entire stock of ammunition ignited and detonated. For a terrible moment the mountain's peak was crowned in golden flame shot through with the silver fragments of the turret's plating. The cannon was destroyed.

But the battle was far from over, and it was a long and messy night we spent in the city upon our landing, fighting alongside the resisting villagers against the Imperial menace, routing the stormtroopers and their commanders from the streets. The entire ordeal was one long, senseless series of explosions, slashes, and deaths, ending only when the last of the troops had surrendered, fled, or died, and I promptly collapsed from exhaustion.

_Break…_

The morning sun cast pale light upon the devastation that was once a thriving farm community. The entire city was a sea of blackened, charred wreckage, dotted here and there with damaged but still-standing houses that stood out like islands. The surrounding farmland was pocked with great black scars and craters from missile impacts, and the heat of the flames had wilted and killed virtually every field, elio and otherwise. Citizens walked through the ruins, dazed, some weeping, others staring blankly at their shattered homes or the cloth-draped body of a loved one.

Had I still been a Sith, this scene would have left me entirely unmoved. But now my heart was breaking for these people. All they had worked so hard to build, all they held dear, was lost to them. Some now had nothing but the clothes on their backs. And as for those who had lost far more than possessions and property, who had lost loved ones, parents, children…

I wept, silently and unseen, for these people.

We helped where we could, digging through the burned husks of buildings to find bodies and vital records that might have survived the inferno, distributing food and water and blankets to the survivors who gathered in the havens of still-erect buildings, and treating the wounded. I found myself inside a large house that had been converted into a makeshift hospital, tending to those who had been burned or shot or injured by collapsing buildings. I suppose this was for the best, as I wore the healing ring. Still, it felt a little odd that I, who had been known as a destroyer all my life, should now be a healer to these people.

Tuck would prove to be an invaluable asset. His Finding ability was put to great use in unearthing valuables, bodies, and the like. In fact, the townspeople kept him so busy that I feared he might burn himself out if he was not careful. And when he was put to work locating the remains of three missing children, only to find them injured but alive in a garage that had only partially caved in, he became an instant hero.

But in the back of my mind I knew that these people needed so much more than what we could give them. There was nothing left for them here…

"They can take our ship," Luke suggested. "They can go to the Alliance and request sanctuary. They'd willingly take them in as refugees."

"No," barked a sun-weathered man from where he sat on a soot-blackened crate. "This's our land, son. Our home. We don't leave it. A few bastard Imps can't chase us off."

"Everything has been burned," I pointed out. "Can you hope to grow again?"

"Hope?" The farmer laughed. "Damn well we can grow again! Fire's good for the soil, especially when it comes to growing elio. The ashes fertilize the soil."

"And your homes?" I countered.

"Can be rebuilt." He gestured about him with a calloused, broken-nailed hand. "Take time to clean up and set up, sure, but come back in a few years and you won't recognize this place."

Strangely enough, the old man's words would be repeated by many others. I had been looking for pain and suffering, and of course I had found it. But beneath that, I found hope – hope for a better future, hope for the rebirth of their lives, hope for a better tomorrow. And even the flames and cruelty of the Empire could not incinerate or crush that hope.

"Still, take the ship," I told them. "You will need supplies from offworld to rebuild here." I paused, thinking, and spoke on with a smile. "On your way out for your first load of supplies, take the Imperials we captured to the nearest Rebel outpost – they should be easy enough to find now that the Alliance no longer needs to hide."

"If we take your ship, how will you get home?" asked the old farmer.

That question was easy enough to answer. The Imperials were gone, but they had left many vehicles behind in their hasty evacuation. Among them was a fuel tanker, unmarked, that I felt was the next vehicle to take on our journey.

We said our goodbyes, then boarded the tanker. Tuck was the last to go in, pausing to take a long, forlorn look at the remains of the city.

"What is it?" I asked him, concerned.

His gaze did not waver. "My brothers… I killed my own brothers…"

"They would have killed you, Tuck," I reminded him. "You did what you had to do to save your life."

Tuck shook his head. "It's not that simple, Vader. I had hoped to rejoin them. I had hoped to complete this journey, return to the Shadow, and have my gift stripped from me so that I could become a stormtrooper, an Imperial, again." He gave a bitter sort of chuckle. "Can you believe it? I wanted to be part of THIS again, part of an organization that could do this…" He swept his arm in the direction of the destroyed town. "…without the slightest provocation or remorse. And back when the stormtroopers killed the hotel manager – who had done NOTHING wrong – I realized what I had almost done."

He folded his arms across his chest as if hugging himself against the cold, though the day was growing hot and muggy. "And yet, the Empire is the only place I really feel like I belong. Except for with you guys, I suppose… but that can't last forever, can it? The Empire was my family. And when I shot down my clone-brothers… I as good as divorced myself from my own family forever." He sighed deeply. "I should feel some kind of triumph or pride that I've done something right… but I don't. I feel… lost. Empty. Alone."

I clasped Tuck's shoulder, not having the words to express the pain I felt on his behalf. Empathy was something I had not felt in a long time, and I was still getting used to it.

"We had better go," I told him at last. "We have a long way to go yet."

"Yeah," he replied distractedly. "We'd better." He turned to board the tanker.

"Hey, wait!"

We turned to see a cluster of figures approaching – two adults and three children. The children, two gangly boys and a tomboyish girl, dashed forward to greet Tuck, throwing their arms about his legs and talking excitedly as if he were a favorite uncle come for a long-anticipated visit. The adults approached at a more leisurely pace, though their eyes shone with gratitude.

"Kids!" the father barked, though he wore a smile. "Don't maul the poor man. What do you say?"

The three children backed off slightly and said at once, as if reciting a line in a play, "Thank you, sir, for saving our lives."

Tuck smiled. "You're welcome."

"We thank you too," the mother added, voice thick with emotion. "We would never have found our babies in time without you. We hope luck always goes with you."

"Hey, I made something for you!" The oldest boy held the object up. "Put it on, please? Please?"

Tuck took the item from him and held it up for closer scrutiny. It was an oblong fragment of bright chrome, probably salvaged from the ruins, fastened to a length of green ribbon. Etched into the surface of the metal in a child's hesitant, crooked penmanship was the word "HERO."

"Well, put it on, Tuck," I advised, suppressing a chuckle. "You deserve it."

Tuck slipped the homemade medal over his neck. "Thank you. I'll wear it to remember you by."

"Have a good trip!" the girl yelled loudly as if we were hard of hearing. "Come back and visit! May the Force be with you! Peace out!"

From the sound of that last exclamation, it sounded like she had been in the company of Jessa for far too long.

Together we boarded the tanker, and I took my place in the pilot's seat.

"Took you long enough," Fett remarked.

"Tuck had some admirers that required his attention," I replied, activating the engines.

"Well, look at that, Tuck's already got a fan following," Jessa teased. "Better watch out, boy, or you're going to have some rabid fan girls stalking you before long."

Whatever that meant. I had grown accustomed to the cyborg girl's strange remarks by now…

"Hey Luke, Darth," she piped up suddenly, "you realize that we three are the only ones who haven't completed a quest yet?"

Luke and I exchanged looks of apprehension. Four quests were behind us – Ash's plot against the governor of Kruvex IV, Nightwind's defeat of the Great Red on Tatooine, Fett's orchestration of our escape from the griffons on Mandalore, and Tuck's heroism during the battle on Wayland. That left three quests – and Jessa, Luke, and myself to face those quests and succeed… or fail. It was not a comforting thought.


	19. Jedi: Return to the Sanctuary Moon

**Chapter XVIII – Jedi: Back to the Sanctuary Moon**

I was the only one awake this particular night. Luke, Tuck, and Fett were belted into bunks in the sleeping quarters of the tanker, deep in slumber. Nightwind occupied what would have been the galley of the ship, legs tucked beneath him and head burrowed under one foreleg, Ash huddled in the crook of his neck with her head under one wing. Jessa reclined in the co-pilot's chair, arms and legs at bizarre angles and head thrown back, the better to issue a metallic snore. Only I remained awake to watch the stars flash by as we glided through hyperspace once again.

Technically, I should have been asleep as well. The autopilot would see us safely to our next destination, and an alarm would awaken us if trouble arose. But I was not tired, and something was bothering me, teasing at the very edges of my mind, restless and anxious. I had tried blocking it out, but none of my meditation techniques could silence it. At last I simply retired to a table in the galley and had a seat, considering.

It had nothing to do with the ring. I knew that much. Except for when speaking to Nightwind, it had lain dormant since leaving Wayland. And seeing as all my Force training had been unable to settle my anxiety, I decided it was safe to assume it was not the work of the Force either.

_You are a man of three heritages and, thus, a man of three magics. _The Shadow's words returned to trouble me. The power of man, the Force… the power of unicorn, the ring… no, I did not want to think of the third power. Every time I had used it, however unknowingly, the consequences had been devastating. When I had drawn on it to avenge my mother's death, it had set me on the path to the dark side. When I had wielded it during the assault on the Jedi Temple, it had bound me irrevocably to the Emperor's side as a slave. Only once, when I had tapped into it to save my son's life, had I used it for good… and even then, I had killed with the power, I had used it to take a life.

If this was what the power of dragon did, did I really want such a part of it? As far as I could see, it was tied to the dark side, a power of destruction and death and vengeance. I wanted no more part of those things. If it took having myself stripped of it as Tuck wanted done with his Force sensitivity, then so be it.

But the power would not be still. It stirred, restless, in the back of my mind, like a caged animal watching for any sign of escape.

I looked down at the ring, now a smooth ivory circle with a slight iridescent sheen. My birth-mother's legacy was every bit as unpredictable as my father's birthright, but at least its power was one of healing and bonding, not killing and rending. That made me wonder – just as my mother's love had been able to tame, if only temporarily, the wildness of my father, could the power of the ring direct and control the power of the dragon?

It was only a theory, and as I did not know how to consciously use the dragon's magic, I could not test it. Which was probably for the best, as the results could be catastrophic if I were wrong…

"I would not allow your power to grow out of control, Vader."

I looked up, surprised. Ash had awakened and now regarded me serenely from Nightwind's shoulder.

"As a phoenix, I have limited powers," she went on. "But if you miscalculated your control over the dragon's magic – and I don't think you would – then my magic would be enough to keep yours from doing damage. But I repeat, you have more strength than you realize, and I don't believe you would allow your power to get out of hand."

"How long have you been reading my mind?" I asked.

"I haven't. But your thoughts sometimes spill out and touch my own, especially when your emotions are stirred. And before you can catch them back as your own, I can often glimpse their meaning." She cocked her head to one side. "Don't worry, I will not tell the others of this."

I motioned for her to join me at the table. "I cannot sleep. If you do not mind, I could use some company tonight."

"I don't mind at all," she replied, spreading her wings and hop-gliding to the table. "You wouldn't mind getting me a midnight snack, would you? I'm really quite terrible about such things…"

I located a jar of nuts in a cupboard of the galley, and after savoring a handful Ash wiped her beak on one shoulder and gazed at me, cocking her head at an amused angle.

"I find you quite fascinating, Vader," she said in an admiring tone. "In all my millennia, I have never encountered a being quite like you."

"Be glad of that," I retorted. "One of me is too much for this galaxy."

She tilted her head the other way as if to view me from another angle. "Don't put yourself down, Vader. Think about it. You are a truly unique creature in this galaxy – human mother, dragon father, bearer of the ring, Chosen One of the Force, heir of the dragons… all wrapped up in one individual. You are very privileged, son, to have such a legacy."

"I do not feel privileged in the least. _Used _would be my choice of words. I did not ask for this fate. I did not ask to be the half-blood offspring of an outcast dragon. I did not ask for an immortal power to bind me into the service of the Emperor."

"In a way, you did," Ash reminded me. "When you bargained with him to save your love. But in a sense, you are right. Even if you hadn't struck the deal with him, he would have found a way to obtain power over you eventually. The Shadow had promised him, and she couldn't renege on it… unless and until he broke his end of the bargain."

"Exactly. My life has never been my own. The Shadow and Palpatine had the power of life and death over me in my infancy. As a child, I was a slave, property, a beast of burden. As a Jedi, I was the poster boy of the Order, expected to be an example and follow the Codes to the letter. As a Sith, I belonged to my master, and now…" I held up my left hand. "Even now, my actions are controlled, to some extent, by the ring and by the Shadow." I dropped the hand. "I want the freedom to direct MY life, the ability to take the path of MY choosing."

Ash's golden eyes flashed. "I know you don't want to hear this, but no one has that freedom… not really."

"What do you mean? You are a free creature, Ash. You bow to no one. You are your own master. You choose your own paths, and you have all eternity to make the choice…"

"Immortality itself eliminates certain paths," Ash interrupted. "Great gifts come with great responsibility, and as an immortal, it is my responsibility to see to the affairs of the galaxy, to support the causes of good, and to aid those in dire need. So in a way, though I have eternal life, that life is not mine to do with what I see fit. I must use it for the good of the galaxy."

"But the others, they are free to choose…"

"No more than you or I. For aren't we all controlled, in one way or another, by a greater force? A child by his parents, a worker by his manager, an officer by his superior, a religious adherent by his deity? The Jedi have their Force to serve, and the Sith… the power they so crave can be just as binding, if not more so, than any chains. And for anyone, be they mortal or immortal, there are disasters and crises that they cannot choose or control. If you truly think about it, everyone is subject to the rule of another, no matter what power they hold."

I had never stopped to consider this.

"Not many do," Ash replied, "and doing so excessively will only depress you. You can only learn to accept what you cannot change and, when you find you have a choice in a matter, choose wisely." She pecked my hand. "Any more nuts?"

I sighed inwardly and offered another handful. "I should have learned by now to never engage in a philosophical argument with an immortal."

"Some lessons take time to learn," she replied.

An alarm buzzed in the cockpit, followed by Jessa's grumbling complaint.

"I had better land the ship," I told Ash. "But thank you for listening."

"I did most of the talking," she protested. "I should be thanking YOU for listening."

I returned to the cockpit, having a seat and preparing for landing.

"Where in the galaxy are we now?" asked Tuck, coming to stand behind me.

I checked the navicomputer… and had to smile. The Shadow definitely had a sense of humor in directing us to come here, of all places. For this place marked the beginning of the journey, at least for myself and Luke…

"The moon of Endor," I replied.

Jessa groaned as if in pain.

"What's wrong?" asked Luke.

"Can I stay in the ship?" she asked.

"We face this challenge together," Ash informed her. "It could very well be your turn, you know."

"Ugh," she grumbled.

Once the tanker had landed, we loaded some needed supplies onto Nightwind's back and set off. I relied on the ring as a sort of compass, letting it guide our party forward. The farther we walked, the hotter it burned, so I could only assume that our next quest would be an urgent one.

My last visit to Endor had been brief and fraught with emotion, so I had not had time to explore the surroundings. Now, traveling with our fellowship, I could fully appreciate the wild green beauty of the forest, the stately majesty of the great leafed giants all around, the haunting melody of birds and insects and wind in the branches, the crunch and snap of bracken under our feet. Natural canopies filtered the sunlight and threw indecipherable patterns of shadow and light upon our faces and backs, and the faint wind carried with it the briefest hints of what lay beyond the trees on all sides – the damp tang of a river or lake, the heated must of rock, the murky decay of dead plant and animal life.

Nightwind held his head high and closed his eyes, savoring the air. "This forest smells… different."

"I've never been on Endor either," Tuck replied. "It's different, isn't it?"

"Not what I meant," Nightwind replied. "Smell something strange."

"What is it?" I asked.

"Fear," he replied. "Smells like fear. Don't know how else to describe it. Humans don't know feeling-smells…" He tested again. "Something big has all the animals here on guard. Something strange, something they haven't seen before…"

"We will keep an eye out," I told him.

Nightwind sniffed again. "Something else, too… food."

"Food?" I repeated.

"Fresh meat, just ahead." He lowered his head and pressed forward, ignoring us.

"Nightwind, no!" Luke shouted. "It could be a trap…"

Too late. The carcass of an animal rested in the fork of a small tree, and before any of us could stop him Nightwind had ripped it free. Chaos instantly erupted, and I found myself at once smothered, trampled, hit, kicked, and my sense of direction hopelessly scrambled.

Nightwind gazed up at the net with a bemused expression, the meat still hanging from his jaws. "What are you doing up there?"

"Never mind that," I retorted – a difficult enough task, as somehow I'd ended up at the bottom of the net.

"Nice one," snarled Fett, struggling to free one arm that had been pinned behind his back. "Always thinking with your stomach…"

"All right, who's butt's in my face?" shrieked Jessa.

"You're not one to talk, your knee's in my back," grunted Tuck.

"Ouch!" Ash screeched. "Luke, that's my wing!"

"Sorry, I'm trying to reach my lightsaber," Luke replied. "Father, can you reach it?"

Seeing as I was stuck in a face-down position, the only thing visible to me was the ground below and the acklay, who had miraculously escaped our fate and was whuffing with hysterical laughter. "No! Nightwind, cut us loose!"

"In a minute." The acklay was busy rending and devouring his prize. Impossible creature…

"Hold on, everyone," Ash ordered. "I'll have us down in a moment."

The stench of burning rope… and the wind was knocked from my lungs as we spilled to the ground in a tangle of bodies. Just my luck that Tuck would land hip-first on my stomach…

"Hold still!" barked Nightwind. "Someone's coming." He gave a bark of surprise. "Strange beasts. Why are they carrying sticks?"

I sat up, still trying to regain my breath. Who was coming? Surely the Rebels hadn't remained on Endor after the battle…

"What the stang…" murmured Fett.

I struggled to contain my laughter. We were surrounded… by an army of tiny, furred creatures armed only with spears, bows, and arrows. They snarled and growled as threateningly as they could, but the effect was far less than frightening – rather, it made it all the harder to keep from breaking into laughter.

"Ewoks," whimpered Jessa, hand over her eyes. "Why did it have to be Ewoks?"

Luke struggled in vain to hide an amused smile. "Don't be so critical of them, Jessa," he told her. "These little guys helped us destroy the shield bunker…"

"I know that!" she snapped. "Doesn't mean I have to like it…"

A gray-furred Ewok stepped forward, keeping his double-tipped spear aimed at my chest. He exchanged conversation with a tan comrade, a conversation the ring translated in its entirety.

"This one looks rather sinister. Are you sure he's one of them?"

"He has to be. Logray told us there would be seven. These are the ones."

"Hmph. Don't see much to them… but then, didn't see much to the Rebels, and look what they did…"

"It's the golden-haired one! The one the Princess was looking for! He's back!"

"If he leads the seven, it must be a good sign…"

"What the stang are they saying?" demanded Fett.

I relayed the conversation, adding, "But I have no idea what they are talking about."

"Ask them," Tuck suggested.

I turned to the gray one. "We are visitors to your planet," I told him. "We come in peace and have no wish to harm your people. We want only to aid you in whatever capacity we can." Now where had that last come from?

The Ewok stepped back, startled. "You speak our language! You must be wise indeed!"

"Not wise." On a whim I raised my hand. "I wear a ring that enables me to speak with you."

He leaned forward and squinted, then widened his eyes. "Horned-horse! You wear a piece of a Royal Horse's horn! I thought they no longer walked the forests…"

"I do not know if they do," I replied, puzzled that they knew of the unicorn. "This ring is ancient. It has been passed down through my family for generations. It is the inheritance of my mother."

The Ewok nodded. "A gift from your ancestors. That is something to be honored." He bowed solemnly. "And if the horn of a Royal Horse has chosen you, then you must be the one Logray spoke of."

"Logray?"

"Our shaman, our man of magic," he explained. "He will be most anxious to speak with you and your friends. Come, you must meet him."

I filled the others in as we climbed to our feet and followed our unlikely escort deeper into the forest. They were just as confused as I as to why an Ewok shaman, however powerful he might be, would be expecting us. Luke theorized that this Logray might be Force-sensitive and sensed our coming, while Ash speculated that he could very well be one of the ancient sorcerers, like the Shadow. Of course, that still did not explain why he would be so eager to meet us.

When learning of Logray, Jessa had only one comment: "Oh joy, he exists too. Now all we need are Wechee and Willie and Princess Kneesa and an army of Duloks and a cute shipwrecked family of four who can't act to save their lives…"

"What's her problem?" hissed Tuck.

"Just ignore her," I advised.

The farther we walked, the hotter the ring glowed, and I knew with utmost certainty that our next quest would be centered in the village of the Ewoks. When I extended the Force, however, I could not sense anything dangerous or out of the ordinary. An unusual amount of fear from Ewok and forest creature alike, yes, but nothing to cause that fear. What was going on? Were we being led into a trap?

The trees were beginning to thin, and small huts of bark and thatch and ramshackle pens holding shaggy ponies dotted the ground at the bases of the greater trees. From these giants dangled vines, rope ladders, and a surprisingly elaborate pulley system that I assumed was used for hauling large loads or livestock into the higher levels. I could see the great wooden platforms that made up the bulk of the village over our heads – apparently only the less arboreal beasts and their caregivers lived on the forest floor.

"Up," ordered our guide. "We're waiting for you."

Nightwind barked. "I can't climb!"

"What about the acklay?" I asked.

The gray Ewok looked him up and down appreciatively. "Never seen a beast like that… not suited for climbing…" He nudged a fellow. "Paploo, let the lift workers know we have a load coming up! And you…" He was addressing the acklay now, shockingly enough. "I sure hope you can fit onto that lift…"

Miraculously, he did, though it was a tight squeeze. The rest of us climbed to reach the village…

And were greeted with enthusiastic acclaim.

A great crowd had gathered to witness our arrival, and upon seeing us they erupted, their high-pitched howls and chants thundering through the forest. Several immediately ran forward and attached themselves to our legs, chattered greetings and questions, and reached out wonderingly to touch our clothes and weapons. Children darted between our legs and grabbed at our arms, and the grizzled elders bowed respectfully as we passed. Everyone seemed quite taken with both Ash and Nightwind, speaking to them in reverent tones and draping them with garlands. And Jessa garnered a great deal of curiosity as well, and more than one inquisitive Ewok stepped forward to hesitantly feel her droid body, marveling.

At long last two of the elders of the tribe, one white-furred and carrying himself with an air of dignity, the other gray and hunched and matted with age, stepped forward. The white one bowed regally and addressed us.

"Welcome to our humble village, visitors," he greeted. "I am Chief Chirpa, and this is our village shaman Logray. We have been expecting you."

I introduced the others and myself. "We are honored to be here… sir." How awkward it felt addressing a being hardly taller than my knee as "sir." "But I am not sure what you mean by expecting us. We gave you no word that we were coming…"

"You did not announce your arrival, no," Logray rasped. "I felt you coming for a long time, though until recently I did not know why you would be coming… only that you would come, and that we would need you." His gaze shifted to the overeager crowd. "But perhaps this is best explained away from prying eyes and curious ears."

It was a tight fit inside Logray's hut, but eventually we managed to fit everyone but Nightwind inside, and the acklay made do by inserting his head through a window. Bizarre artifacts of every kind hung from the walls – painted gourds, animal skulls, gemstones in both cut and raw stages, staffs of wood or bone, strings of drying herbs, clay pots, rolls of animal-skin parchment, painted hides stretched over wooden hoops, and items I did not even try to describe. Logray had a seat and invited us to share our story.

By now I had told the tale so many times that it came out like a recording, with all overly personal parts edited out. Logray nodded periodically, and once or twice I saw his eyes flash, as if he knew I were leaving something out, but he did not press it then. Only when I had finished the story did he confront me.

"I sense you have not told me the entire truth," he noted, raising an eyebrow.

"I have told you all that matters," I replied evenly.

"And the fact that the Shadow is aiding and abetting your quest does not matter?"

I jerked back, astonished. "How did you know…"

"The Shadow and I are friends from a long way back," he explained with a smile. "Quite the young lady, if not yet at the greatest extent of her power. Given time, she may very well be the greatest sorceress of them all."

"She's great now," Luke put in once I had translated his remarks.

"Great enough to have left her mark upon your party," Logray replied. He sighed and gazed at us heavily. "I sincerely wish I could see how your adventure played out, my friends, but alas, my presence and energies are needed with my people."

"You said you needed us," Fett put in. "How?"

Logray lifted a roll of hide from a stack nearby and spread it flat before us, revealing text in a language I could not decipher. "Two moon-cycles ago, during my meditations, I saw the seven of you in a vision. I saw that you would come to Endor, led by the power of the Royal Horse of legend – what you call the unicorn. And I saw that you would work a great miracle that would spare our entire village from destruction. At the time there was no threat to our village, so I simply recorded the vision and let the matter rest.

"Then, half a moon-cycle ago, it came." He drew a deep breath and shut his eyes. "It's a monster, unlike anything we have ever seen on Endor. It destroys our trees, devours our game and livestock, kills our children. The fire-weapons we stole from the Empire do not hurt it. Our spears and arrows only annoy it. It has made the forest outside our village its home, and I fear it will depart only when it has slain us to the last Ewok and torn the flesh from our bones.

"And now you are here – the Seven Who Are One, led by the power of the ring. You have come in our most desperate hour. Only you can defeat the monster that holds our entire village in its thrall of terror. Only you can save us all."

"We would be forever indebted to you if you aided us," Chirpa added solemnly. "You are our only hope."

The ring burned approvingly. So this was the next quest – to defeat whatever beast was laying siege to the village. Luke and Jessa shifted uncomfortably on either side of me, not exactly thrilled at the prospect of facing down such a horrific-sounding creature. I did not relish the thought myself…

But how could we turn Chirpa and Logray down? And how could we turn our backs upon a helpless community such as this one?

"We will do what we can," I vowed.

"What kind of creature is it?" asked Luke. "I'd like to know what we're getting into before we act."

"That can be arranged," Chirpa replied. "Wait half a candle-mark, and an army of warriors will be ready to escort you to the beast's lair."

Jessa turned to Fett. "Can I ask you a huge favor?"

"What kind of favor?"

"If this turns out to be my quest, can you please shoot me in the head?"

"Shut up, Jessa."


	20. Jedi: The Invisible Beast

**Chapter XIX – Jedi: The Invisible Beast**

It took the better part of an hour for our company and Chirpa's guards to descend from the tree-village and make our way to the lair of the mysterious monster. According to Logray, the beast had laid claim to a great deal of territory, and scouts and other Ewok tribes had reported sighting the beast "many days' journey away." And apparently it was not terribly choosy as to its prey – one of the warriors that accompanied us told a breathless tale of how he had seen the creature take on a phlog and come out the victor.

"What's a phlog?" asked Luke.

"Big giant monster, more or less humanoid, as tall as the trees or bigger," Jessa replied in a disgruntled monotone. "Pretty strong too. If the furball's telling the truth, whatever this beastie is must be tough."

"Of course I'm telling the truth!" insisted the Ewok once I had translated Jessa's comment for him. "Why wouldn't I tell the truth?"

"Because you're also the one who claimed you were late for the last Soul-Tree ceremony because you were busy fighting off a pack of korribas bare-handed," his companion sneered.

"Hey!"

Luke smiled amusedly as I translated the argument for him. "For all our outward appearances, we're not that different from these creatures, are we?"

"I don't want to be compared to an Ewok," Jessa grumbled.

"Exactly what do you have against the Ewoks?" I asked.

"Look, they weren't so bad in the last movie, okay?" she replied. "But then they overkilled their cuteness with the TV series and a couple of really, really lame made-for-TV movies… honestly, if they're going to do a Star Wars spinoff movie, they should at least cast people who can act their way out of a paper bag… and don't get me started on the kid's books…"

Her answer made no sense whatsoever, but at least I knew her distaste for the beings had a foundation, however shaky.

As we passed through the forest, I caught glimpses of strange creatures through the trees – flashes of red or gray fur, glinting yellow or green eyes, a curved horn or a gleaming fang here or there. Our guides were happy to identify them for us, and they assured us that we were perfectly safe from them for the time being.

"The beasts of the forest know that this is a crisis," Chirpa explained. "This monster among us has upset the natural balance of the forest. Until that balance is restored, a truce has been declared. The hunters do not kill any more than they have to for food, and they leave the Ewoks alone. In return, we refrain from hunting and live off our crops and livestock for the time being."

"But your food stocks cannot last indefinitely," I pointed out.

"Exactly, my friend. Even now they are almost empty. Which is why we so desperately need you to eliminate this creature before it destroys the balance of the forest… and comes against the Ewok village. For I fear it will only be a matter of time before it has depleted the forest of prey and begins hunting us."

We stopped at the edge of a ravine, a gash in the earth about ten meters deep. The Ewoks stepped back, whispering amongst themselves, reluctant to go any further.

"This is it," a grizzled red warrior informed me. "This is where the monster lairs."

I cautiously went to the edge of the ravine and looked down… but could see nothing. I probed with the Force… and again, sensed nothing. But the ring was going berserk, one moment searing hot and the next biting cold. What was down there? Another of the mythic creatures Ash and Jessa were so familiar with? Was this to be Jessa's quest after all?

"Perhaps it is sleeping," Chirpa mused. He handed me a rough-sewn leather bag stuffed with fresh meat scraps. "I hate to disturb the beast, but you must see it if you are to plan how to fight it. Throw that in and wait."

I dropped the bag over the edge, and it landed heavily in a scrabble of rocks, scarlet juices oozing from the seams. Nothing stirred within the canyon… but a pair of dog-like, golden-furred korriba yearlings with less sense than they should have had scrambled down the canyon wall, unable to resist the tempting lure. A packmate snarled a warning…

And the very air seemed to heave and slither about the ravine floor.

"What the Sith?" snarled Fett, blaster coming up instinctively.

"It's _transparent!_" exclaimed Tuck. "Completely transparent!"

The first pup was seized in a pair of glassy mandibles as long as a man's leg, crushed effortlessly, and swallowed. The second korriba gave a terrified scream and flung himself at the canyon wall, claws scratching madly at the stone for purchase. The beast reared like a serpent preparing to strike, and a stream of stringy gray material shot from its mouth and slammed into the fleeing pup. Within seconds the poor animal was coated in the stuff, a grotesque package that twitched and squealed as the beast applied itself to it with leisure.

"Okay Ash, I don't remember reading about this one in any mythology books," Jessa told the phoenix.

"My eyes tell me what it is," Ash replied, stunned. "But my mind tells me that this is impossible… these beasts are supposed to be extinct…"

"The Sith were supposed to be extinct," Fett countered. "And the Jedi."

I stared at the creature, struggling to identify it. It vaguely resembled a giant centipede, with overlapping plates of armor covering its long body and pair after pair of segmented legs beneath it. The first several pairs of legs terminated in shearing claws, and the wicked head sported jet-black compound eyes and jaws powerful enough to pierce ship plating. And as Tuck had pointed out, the creature was as transparent as if carved from crystal. Beneath the glass-like plates of armor I could see bizarre stirrings and pulsings of muscles and organs, and if that was not gruesome enough the savaged remains of the korriba pups were clearly visible sliding down its gullet.

But that was not the strangest thing about the beast. What stunned me more than anything else was that it was invisible to the Force. I could not sense it, could not touch its mind. Trying to sense it through the Force was like trying to grasp a hologram.

This was wrong, very wrong.

"Taozin," Ash said at last. "This is a taozin, a beast that, through freak mutation and natural selection, is practically invisible to the Force. And I had long believed them extinct." She shook herself nervously, shedding a few feathers. "They are not native to Endor, so what one is doing here is puzzling…"

"Could the Empire have brought it?" asked Luke.

"Could have," I replied. "I cannot imagine the Rebellion keeping a beast like this, but Imperials are fond of strange pets and have been known to drag them on missions."

"That makes sense," Chirpa mused. "And when we defeated the Empire, their pet broke out of its cage or pen and had to seek its own sustenance."

The taozin raised its head and glowered at us, its mandibles working thoughtfully. Then, deciding it was not yet hungry enough to bother with us, it sank to the ground and curled itself into a knot to rest. Once it ceased stirring, it was nearly invisible to the eyes.

"Can't fight it," Nightwind noted, shuddering as he looked down at the beast. "Too big, even for me."

"My fire is no use," Ash added.

"We need a plan," Tuck said thoughtfully. "Any ideas, Vader?"

I shook my head. "I will need time to think…"

"Who says this is Vader's quest?" asked Fett. "It could very well be Luke's or Jessa's…"

"Spare me," Jessa groaned.

The conversation ended there, and we remained silent all the way back to the village. All my life I had relied on the Force as an ally, a second sense, and tapping into it was as instinctive as blinking for me. To be confronted with a situation in which the Force was totally useless was shocking to say the least, and it would be a definite challenge to plan an offensive against this beast without the Force's power.

Logray awaited us in the main square of the village. "So you have seen it?"

"It's so strange," Luke murmured.

"Strange indeed," Logray replied. "Very strange. But I have complete confidence in your company. After all, greater powers than the Force watch over you… and there is a Jedi in your midst."

Luke shook his head. "I'm not a Jedi."

"Not a Jedi?" Logray cocked his head, puzzled. "Do you not use the Force? Are you not a Knight, a servant of light?"

Luke sighed. "Logray, I've learned some disturbing things about the Jedi recently… that they have banned emotion from their Order… and forbidden attachment and love. I've decided that, if to be a Jedi means surrendering emotion, then I don't want to be one."

"And you will let the Order fade into obscurity and the galaxy fall into chaos over that?" Logray asked, arching an eyebrow.

Luke could not form a reply.

"It is a shame," Logray murmured, lowering his head. "I had thought that there remained a Jedi to aid the Ewoks in this crisis. It seems I was mistaken." And he turned and went back into his hut.

Luke glared at me. "Don't say it."

"I was not going to say anything."

"You were thinking it."

"Thinking what?"

He sighed. "I'm tired. Where are we sleeping?"

"This way, sir," an Ewok guard invited, leading Luke toward one of the larger huts.

"What's his problem?" asked Jessa.

"Logray called him a Jedi," I told her. "He rebuked him, saying he was no longer a Jedi. Logray strongly hinted that the only person who can avert this crisis is a Jedi. I suspect he touched a nerve."

Jessa whistled. "Poor Luke. Can't say I blame him. The whole 'a Jedi shall not know love' bit always upset me. Why can't Jedi be human too? It's not like having a lightsaber and a few extra midichlorians makes you a god. Jedi make mistakes, and you can't tell me they don't get angry or depressed or scared."

"Not to hear some of the elder Jedi talk," I replied, anger seeping into my voice. "They always considered themselves beyond such scourges as fear and sorrow and anger."

"Hmm. That's not only wrong, it's stupid. You can't have the good without the bad. Like my grandma used to say, 'you can't appreciate the sun if you don't know the rain.'"

"Ah, but the good emotions are banned as well. A Jedi is not to become prideful or know love, remember?"

Jessa rolled her eyes. "So to become a Jedi is to become an emotionless lump of matter, eh? And here Yoda was saying we're luminous beings, not crude matter."

I caught myself before firing off a retort. Why were we having this discussion? It was not helping us devise a plan against the monster.

"Can I borrow your lightsaber?" Jessa asked abruptly.

"What for?"

"I want to try something. I'll give it right back, trust me."

I hesitated. Was this a good idea? I focused on the ring, and to my surprise it pulsed affirmatively.

"Be careful," I urged her, unclipping the weapon and handing it over.

"I'm always careful," she replied with a wink, and she turned and began descending the ladder.

"You just gave a thermal detonator to a five-year-old," groaned Fett, watching her go.

"Shouldn't someone go with her?" Tuck asked. "What if she gets into trouble?"

"She will be fine," I said, more to assure myself than to assure them.

Luke did not show up for the evening meal. Concerned, I excused myself from the festivities and retreated to the hut that made up our sleeping quarters. He lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, hands clasped over his chest. He did not acknowledge my entry.

"Luke."

His eyes flickered toward me. "Oh, it's you."

"Talk to me," I ordered. "What is troubling you?"

"Nothing… and everything." The first was said in a short, irritated tone, the last in a quiet, heavy voice.

"Which?" I sat down on the cot next to him.

He sighed heavily. "I'm so confused." He rolled over to stare at the wall. "I wanted to be a Jedi for so long. It's what I've been preparing myself for and training to do for years. I still want to use the Force to do good… but I don't want to deprive myself of emotion either. I don't want to lose my friends and those I love. And I don't want to lose you either."

I could not fault his reasoning, but I knew, as Logray did, that the Jedi were the only ones who could restore justice to the galaxy. If we could only find some middle ground…

"Perhaps," I suggested, knowing I would have been lynched for blasphemy had I proposed this in the days of the Old Jedi Order, "it is not you that needs to change."

Luke twisted about to look at me. "What?"

"The Order has been virtually unchanged for thousands of years," I replied. "Unfortunately, the rest of the galaxy does not work that way. It has evolved over the centuries, and many aspects of life – government, commerce, advertising, public services – have been forced to evolve with it in order to survive. The Jedi refused to evolve. And how could they better serve the galaxy if they still clung to the beliefs and edicts of the Order's pre-space days?

"I am not saying that every aspect of the Order is flawed. I am only saying that their adherence to the old ways was a mistake. Had they been willing to alter the rules a little, they might not now be an extinct power."

Luke's brow furrowed. "I never thought of it that way. That the Jedi Order needs changing."

"You had no reason to." I met Luke's eyes with my own. "Luke, I do not, in any way, condone my own actions or suggest that I am not responsible for my crimes. I only say that things might have turned out differently had they been more accepting of love, marriage, and emotion."

Luke sighed. "So it might not be such a good idea to bring back the Order after all."

"The Order must live on," I countered. "But it must be ruled wisely, with the welfare of the people foremost rather than the maintaining of ancient traditions."

He nodded. "That sounds reasonable…"

Nervous chatter broke out outside the hut, and I stood and strode out to investigate. Luke hopped off the cot and followed me.

The Ewoks were fretting over a just-returned Jessa, and for good reason. The cyborg girl was a mess – mud caked her joints and smeared her face plate and torso shell, plant matter was caught in her machinery, her cloak had great rents in it, and one of her legs was bent at a strange angle, giving it the appearance of having two knees. Upon seeing us she shrugged off the Ewoks who were fussing over her and limped toward me, holding out my lightsaber.

"Well, that didn't work," she grumbled. "Hope you two were discussing a plan in there…"

"You tried facing it alone?" I asked, dumbfounded.

"Um…" She ducked her head guiltily. "Wanted to give it a shot… I felt kinda bad about my comments earlier and wanted to make it up to them…"

"Did you find anything out?" asked Luke.

"Yeah." She tossed my saber at my feet. "That doesn't work right with taozins."

"What do you mean by that?" Luke asked.

"Exactly what I said. Oh, it hurts the beastie, but not terribly. When the blade goes in…" She made a thrusting motion with her arm. "…it dissolves. No, that's not the right word… diffuses? Diffracts? Like a beam of light in a thick fog. The energy goes in all directions inside its body."

"Certain energy fields have been known to do that," I noted. "But I have never heard of a creature's body material altering a lightsaber's energy emissions."

"You just did." She lifted her mangled leg. "Think you can look at this, Darth? Damn thing just about took it off."

_Break…_

In the morning, I had planned to hold a conference amongst the members of our party regarding the taozin, but plans changed upon waking.

I sat up and turned to Luke's pallet… only to find it empty. He was sitting before a low table (then again, in the Ewok village, all tables were low to us), balancing a wooden spoon on its end. He released the utensil, and it fell over with a soft clatter. Then he raised it again and watched it fall. He repeated the process several times, oblivious to my gaze.

"What are you doing?" I asked at last.

He did not turn to look at me. "Thinking."

"About the Order?"

He shook his head. "About the taozin."

"I see," I replied, though in truth I did not see.

He balanced the spoon again, let go, and frowned as it fell to the table. "Wrong way… have to direct its fall somehow…" He lifted it again, paused, and let go. Again it fell, and his frown deepened. "And something will have to keep it up until the time is just right… I wonder if I'm strong enough to hold it with the Force…"

"Try tying it… whatever it is," suggested Tuck, and I realized he was also awake, propped up on one elbow and watching Luke toy with the spoon.

Luke gave him a thoughtful look, then returned his attention to the utensil. "Tie it… cut carefully…"

"Explanations are nice, Lukey," Jessa pointed out, emerging from her corner. She still favored her damaged leg slightly; I would have to redo the repairs once we reached a more technologically advanced world.

Luke looked up at her, a slight smile on his features. "Good news for you, Jessa – I don't think this is your quest."

"Oh?"

He released the spoon a final time, and its resounding clatter seemed to be a note of finality.

"We're going to need every Ewok in this village – man, woman, and child – to help us. We need everyone to cooperate in any capacity they can. And we'll need rope. Lots and lots of rope."


	21. Jedi: A Victory and a Debt

**Chapter XX – Jedi: A Victory and a Debt**

Like Ash, Luke seemed to have snatched a careful plan out of thin air in order to accomplish his quest. Unlike the phoenix, however, he harbored no secrets but divulged his plan in its entirety. At first I was somewhat skeptical – perhaps learning the creature was immune to both the Force and lightsabers had convinced me on some level that it was invincible – but the more he explained, the more certain I became that we could defeat our adversary.

"What a marvelous idea, Luke!" exclaimed Ash once he had described, in detail, what he had planned during the night. "But it seems too big a task for the seven of us…"

"That's why we need help," Luke replied, looking up as Logray entered the hut.

"Well?" he asked. "You called me? You have a plan?"

"Yes we do. And we'll need every pair of hands available to pull it off."

"Whatever you need shall be provided," Logray assured him. "You have the entire village and its resources at your disposal, son. Simply ask and it shall be done."

Luke nodded. "We're going to need rope…"

"I'll have Ewoks gather every length of rope available. If it is not enough, we will make more. Anything else?"

"Yes – we need a tree. A thick tree close to the ravine."

Here Logray paused, frowning slightly. "What do you plan on doing to this tree?"

Luke hesitated.

"Understand that we Ewoks respect the trees greatly," the Ewok magician explained. "They shelter us, provide for us, and in return we protect them from harm. They are, in effect, members of the tribe. We would no more harm a tree of our forests than you would take a knife to your own flesh and blood."

"And yet you live in wooden houses," Fett remarked, thunking the floorboards with a heel.

"Made from wood harvested from dead, sick, or damaged trees, hunter," Logray rejoined. "I ask again – will your plan entail harming the tree involved?"

Luke's gaze wandered off into a corner. "Yes."

Logray gave him a long, studious stare. Then he beckoned. "Come with me, Skywalker. The rest of you may accompany us if you wish."

Puzzled, we followed the sorcerer down to the forest floor and through the trees. Dew-soaked bracken and shrubbery dampened our clothes, and shafts of fiery sunrise slanted through the trees and seemed to ignite the ghostly patches of mist into roiling flames. The air was thick with the smell of wet earth, crushed plants, and decaying organic matter, so strong I could taste it through my mask. Somewhere in the distance a munyip gurgled a call to its brethren, and a korriba bugled a hunting cry.

At last we reached the ravine where the taozin resided. The beast was awake but motionless, crystal coils piled beneath staring, bottomless onyx eyes like those of a demon. Logray did not spare the monster a glance, but continued on until he reached the base of a tree. Robed in deepest green, as thick around as the leg of an AT-AT walker, its branches spread open like the roof of a cathedral, it was a princely specimen, one that would have put any tree in the Imperial gardens to shame. A ring of smooth river stones that alternated between white and black encircled its base, and smaller colored pebbles had been arranged in archaic symbols and runes within that circle.

Unexpectedly, the ring throbbed warmly. I touched the tree with the Force, wondering what could have set off the ring, and was startled to note that considerable power was emanating, not from the tree, but from the ground below it. The very earth here seemed to bleed energy…

"What you see," Logray explained, "is an Ewok's soul tree… or, more specifically, my soul tree. It is the belief of my people that, when an Ewok dies, his soul is reunited with his soul tree, providing an eternal resting place. Without the soul tree, an Ewok's spirit would be condemned to wander Endor for all time." He paused at the very edge of the stone ring. "When I was of the age to plant my soul tree, I selected this very spot for an important reason. Ash, can you tell us why?"

"It is a Place of Power," she explained. "A location where powerful magics and energies converge and pool, where even the most inexperienced magic wielders can draw on the powers here and put them to use."

Nightwind sniffed experimentally. "Don't smell magic."

Logray laughed good-naturedly. "It is not something you can detect with your five ordinary senses, young creature. It takes listening with your spirit."

The acklay cocked his head. "I don't get it."

"Are Places of Power common?" asked Tuck.

"No," Logray replied, "but they are found all over the galaxy. The tree cavern on Dagobah, the sacred springs of the Tusken Raiders on Tatooine, the great stones of Stonehenge on Earth… Even the original Jedi Temple was built upon a Place of Power. And if the Jedi had not moved their headquarters to another part of the planet, their temple would have been an impregnable fortress, fortified with magic against the Sith."

Luke knelt and placed a hand on the ground within the stone circle. "Why plant your soul tree here, then?"

"To keep the young scamps of the village from discovering this spot and working mischief," he replied with a roll of his eyes. "They keep their distance from my soul tree, and in doing so the Place of Power is not abused." He smiled amusedly at Luke. "I'd move your hand if I were you…"

Luke jerked his hand back with a yelp. "Ow! Something bit me!"

Logray chuckled. "Just a minor shock, son. A warning to not underestimate the powers at work here."

"Why are you showing us this?" demanded Fett, totally unimpressed as usual. "I thought you were going to help…"

"Patience, hunter," Logray advised. "This is an important part of your plan, is it not?"

The blow of realization came to me. "You're sacrificing your soul tree?"

He smiled. "Why not?"

"But what about your soul?" asked Jessa, stunned. "You said…"

"You forget that I am a sorceror, like the Shadow," Logray replied. "I am immortal, unless I choose to die. I would probably outlive my soul tree anyhow, so why not give it to your cause? And perhaps by using this tree, which roots itself in earth saturated with powerful magic, you can be assured of victory."

"Thank you, Master Logray," I told him, giving a respectful bow. "Your sacrifice will not be forgotten."

The wizard glanced down into the canyon, where the taozin was untangling its many legs and coils and clashing its jaws ravenously. "If it saves us all, then no price is too great. No price."

_Break…_

After Logray delivered a rousing speech to the village, explaining that the heroic sacrifice of one of the trees would bring about the monster's death, we had overwhelming support and a seemingly endless supply of volunteers. The few who disapproved of destroying any tree for any reason, let alone a soul tree, went generally ignored. It was a relief to know that we would not be viewed as barbarians for doing harm to a sacred relic.

Luke set the Ewoks to work at once, bringing in rope from the village and knotting ends together to form longer lengths. When they had a sufficient length, one end of the rope would be tied to Logray's soul tree, the rope pulled taut, and the other end would be fixed to an adjacent tree or staked into the ground. Soon the tree had so many lines connected to it that it resembled the web of a massive, deranged spider.

Then Luke sent a team of the more agile Ewoks, led by Jessa, directly into the branches of the tree. They began cutting the branches on the side of the tree facing the ravine, lopping some off and sharpening others to cruel points. Other Ewoks, with the aid of Nightwind and their own beasts of burden, cleared away the fallen branches, some getting hopelessly entangled in the maze of ropes. As a result, Fett, Tuck, and I spent more of my time "rescuing" either Nightwind or trapped Ewoks and horses than doing anything to hasten the plan.

"Whatever you're doing," muttered Chief Chirpa, scratching his white-furred head, "it is beyond my understanding."

"Have faith, my old friend," Logray chided before any of us could retort. "These people know what they are doing."

Two days into the project, however, we hit a snag – the villages supply of rope had been exhausted.

"We've already used enough rope to tie down a rancor," Fett noted, high-stepping to avoid tripping over a line. "Shouldn't this be enough?"

"I just want to be cautious," Luke told him. "Logray, is it difficult to make rope?"

"Not difficult," Logray replied. "All it takes is a few minutes of instruction and time – a great deal of some of the most maddeningly boring time you'll ever see pass by."

The Ewok sorcerer did not exaggerate in the least. Luke insisted that we help with this project as much as we could, which meant all of us – save Nightwind and Ash, spared due to their lack of hands – were drafted into the mind-numbing task of ropemaking. One might think that the knowledge that the work of your hands would be used to defeat a hideous monster would be enough to make the chore interesting, but in reality, once the novelty of trying something new has worn off (which takes all of a few minutes), the brain settles into a deep torpor even as the hands keep working. And the job quickly goes from monotonous to impossibly frustrating when, inevitably, the rope gets snarled…

After untold hours of this madness, I was almost relieved when the ring gave a painful, urgent stab and a frightened clamor rang through the area.

"The beast! It awakens!"

The fearsome insectoid head and no less than four pairs of legs emerged from the ravine, jaws like jagged pieces of glass gaping open. Fett and Tuck drew blasters and opened fire, but the bolts did little more than blotch the beast's shell. The Ewoks immediately dropped whatever they were doing and began hurling stones and spears, most of which bounced harmlessly off the creature's transparent armor. A single spear lodged itself in a gap between two plates of armor, and with an annoyed hiss the taozin curled around, grasped the shaft, yanked it free, and shattered it with a single flex of its jaws.

I ignited my lightsaber. The blade might not inflict much damage, but perhaps the simple threat of pain would dissuade the beast…

A stream of gray matter shot from the creature's maw, pinning an Ewok to the ground and enveloping him in a stringy, sticky mass. The other Ewoks renewed their attack, but the creature seemed to hardly notice.

Then an unearthly scream rent the air as someone totally unexpected bolted forward to rescue our fallen comrade.

The taozin rasped angrily as a jet-black stallion, larger by far than most of its brethren, interposed itself between the incapacitated Ewok and the monster. Rearing and screaming again, he lashed out with heavy forehooves, one hoof catching the monster between the eyes and cracking the shell. Screeching in outrage, it struck, snake-like, slashing open ebony hide and the muscle beneath…

Nightwind charged, forelegs raised, howling a battle cry.

"Get back!" I ordered, but the acklay was past hearing. He stood over the pinioned Ewok and injured horse, straddling them beneath him as he faced the taozin. The beast's head snaked back, and it fired a stream of its binding matter at Nightwind. The substance plastered his chest and flowed over his back in a shaggy gray mass, but he was too big for a single blast to incapacitate. The taozin surged forward to bite, but Nightwind brought a foreleg down upon its back with such force that it punched through the armor and sank into flesh, watery blood flowing from the wound. With an enraged hiss the taozin shrank back, accepting defeat for the time being, and slipped back into the ravine.

Ewoks swarmed forward to cut their shaken but unhurt comrade from his bindings. I ran to Nightwind's side, still stunned by his attack.

"Are you hurt?" I asked.

Nightwind panted, eyes wide and staring and aglow with the thrill of battle, teeth still bared in a snarling grin, strings of gray matter still hanging from his body. It was a moment before the wildness faded from his eyes and he turned to look at me.

"Fought it," he breathed, awed. "Fought it and wounded it. It'll be more careful from now on." He craned his neck about and began tearing away the sticky material. "Not hurt… but the horse is. See to it."

One look at the stallion, however, confirmed my gut instincts – the creature was gravely wounded, too seriously wounded for the ring alone to heal. The taozin's jaws had cut the shoulder to the bone and severed the muscles powering the foreleg, and the deep gashes glistened and gaped like hungry mouths. I was able to seal the blood vessels and halt the bleeding, but it would take a greater power than mine to knit the sliced tissues together again.

"We will see to it," Chirpa assured me. "Our medicine woman is an expert at stitching skin together. She can help this heroic animal."

Yes, but what could she do about damaged muscle? Under the best of circumstances, the animal would be lame for the rest of its life. The one stroke of luck was that the horse lived on Endor, among the Ewoks, who would care for it regardless of its condition. On any other planet, he would have been put down almost at once, for most owners had no use for a creature that was unfit for labor or show.

But soon thoughts of the stallion were far from my mind as the project continued. Logray's soul tree now had so many ropes attached to it that one would think it would shoot into space like an antique rocket were it not tied down. The branches on the side of the tree facing the ravine were gone, giving the tree a weirdly lopsided look. Instead, an array of wicked spikes jutted from the trunk, some as long as a landspeeder.

At long last Luke called a halt to the work. "Done. We're ready to see if this works."

"May the Force be with us," murmured Tuck.

By now the sun had nearly descended below the horizon, casting everything in hues of crimson and purple. The sky seemed afire, brilliant splashes of orange and red staining the clouds. The play of shadow and light upon the ground gave everything a haunting look, as if we had stepped out of the forest of Endor and onto a battlefield. And in a sense, we had.

Two of the strongest Ewoks stepped forward and, after murmuring pleas of forgiveness to the tree, sank their axes into the bark. Their thick arms pumped furiously as they cut away at the hard wood, filling the air with wood chips and the sharp smell of pine sap.

The tree shuddered, then shifted to one side.

"It's falling the wrong way," Luke cautioned. "Cut at the other side. We have to direct its fall."

The woodsmen obeyed. As they worked, other Ewoks edged as far to the lip of the ravine as they dared, tossing debris and garbage at the taozin in the hopes of goading it into another attack.

"Stop!" Luke ordered. "Any more, and the ropes won't be able to keep it up."

The woodsmen stepped back. The entire tree quivered dangerously, its base so badly weakened that it seemed the slightest touch would cause the entire thing to topple. The ropes groaned and shivered with the strain, just barely holding the tree upright.

The taozin reacted with an unholy screech, and the Ewoks scattered as its fearsome, ugly head rose into view again. This time, however, it did not remain in the canyon but lurched upward, dragging its bulk up and over the edge.

Perfect.

"Now!" Luke shouted, and ignited his saber.

Every Ewok drew axes, knives, and spears and sliced at the ropes on the side of the tree opposite the taozin. Ash closed her beak around a line, and it parted instantly. I drew my own blade and slashed through three lines at a time. Fett and Tuck sawed at the ropes with vibroblades, and Jessa hacked at those closest to her with her own claws.

All support on our side gone, the tree fell, first with a horrible agonizing slowness, then gaining momentum as it hurtled toward the monster. Totally oblivious to everything but its prey, the beast did not sense its oncoming doom until the arboreal giant slammed atop it, striking it halfway down its body and crushing and impaling it. It screamed again and thrashed violently, its claws shredding the ground, its body striking neighboring trees with enough force to strip off great sheets of bark, but to no avail. It was trapped.

A victorious roar rose from the Ewoks when, at long last, the taozin ceased thrashing and lay still in the torn earth. Their foe was dead at last.

Luke breathed a great sigh of relief. "It worked."

"Of course it worked," Logray chided. "How could it not have worked with both magic and the Force on your side?"

Luke smiled. "I've been thinking, Master Logray, about what you said the other day."

Logray nodded, apparently expecting this.

"You were right," he went on. "There still is a Jedi left."

Logray smiled.

_Break…_

The Ewoks insisted on dragging the corpse of the taozin into the upper levels of their village for the victory celebration, propping it up on great poles to simulate an attacking pose. The effect was unexpectedly comical, unfortunately, for in death the creature looked less like a terrible monster and more like a badly made child's toy. Looking at it now, it seemed almost laughable to be afraid of such a ludicrous monster.

Of course, we all knew better.

I stayed at the fringes of the festivities, letting Luke get the attention he deserved. The Ewoks recognized him as the mastermind behind the plan, and they constantly plied him with food and eager questions. And when Chief Chirpa bestowed a gift upon him – a leather headdress with a pair of blue bird's wings sewn in – he accepted it gratefully. And much to the surprise of our company, he wore it for most of the night, enduring Jessa's merciless teasing with considerable grace.

Sometime during the course of the night, however – I'll never know exactly when – the ring burned. It was drawing me down, to the forest floor…

I slipped away, unnoticed, and descended one of the many ladders to the forest floor. I followed the path to the site of our battle with the taozin, guided by the ring. With every step the ring seemed to gather power, glowing like a torch to light my way, pulsing in time to my heartbeat…

There remained naught of Logray's soul tree but a ragged stump, still bleeding pine sap. And standing at that stump, gazing at me with pain-filled, unexpectedly intelligent brown eyes, was the stallion who had been wounded defending his master that very afternoon.

I raised my hand, feeling the ring's power course through me. "I speak your language."

The stallion nodded its head. "I know."

"I cannot heal your wounds. They are too great for my power alone."

"I know."

The circle of stones stood intact about the tree, and the moment I set foot within that circle I felt my entire body shiver with an unspeakable force. _The Place of Power…_

"But perhaps, with the aid of another power, I can help you."

The stallion bowed his head. "Do what you will, Bearer of the Ring of my immortal brethren…"

The power beneath my feet flowed through me, melding with the power of the ring. I placed my hands upon the horse's shoulder, feeling the ravaged muscles shudder at my touch. Where the skin had been crudely stitched back together I placed the palm of my left hand, and I willed the torn tissues to grow, to renew themselves, to bind themselves together and become as before and better…

The entire forest seemed to shimmer gold and silver, and I staggered with the force of the power as it poured through me and into the stallion. I pulled my hands back, revealing glossy black hide that bore no trace of a scar, let alone a crippling injury.

The stallion twisted his head around and touched my shoulder with his nose, sighing deeply. "You have given me a great gift. I will never forget this."

"It was my duty," I replied, stepping out of the Place of Power, more than willing to let the arcane magic go back to its proper place. "I could not let you suffer. Not while I wore the ring."

The horse snorted and tossed his head. "Upon my back, Bearer of the Ring. I will show you my world, show you what you have saved from our foes, and you will never forget…"

I sat astride the great stallion, and with a triumphant cry he burst into a full gallop, plunging through the trees effortlessly, with neither thought nor fear of a collision. I lay low across his shoulders, both to cut wind resistance and to avoid being knocked off by a stray branch. I could feel the powerful muscles bunching and stretching beneath me as we raced through the forest, feel the raw energy of his body, the tensing and sudden release of power as he leaped an obstacle…

Abruptly the forest ended, and as one we thundered across a great plain that gleamed silver beneath the starlight. Onward and onward, conscious of nothing but the thrill of the race, seeming for several heart-stopping moments to almost lift off the ground and fly over the plains and into the stars…

"For helping me, this is your reward," he intoned as solemnly as a prayer. "For helping our people, our herd, something is still owed. Watch well, Bearer of the Ring, for there will come a day when our kind will help you as you helped us…"

_Break…_

I told no one of my sojourn with the horse as we packed our supplies and departed the next morning, not even Luke. It seemed intensely personal, something sacred between myself and the stallion, as ludicrous as it seemed. I doubted I would even tell the Shadow of this.

"And then there were two," remarked Jessa cryptically. "What's the next stop on our agenda?"

"Not a clue," Fett replied. "Back to the ship, I suppose… unless the ring has other ideas?" The last he said with only the faintest trace of sarcasm.

I was about to reply, but a strange prompting from the ring urged me to look up.

"That," I told the others, raising my hand to point at an incoming ship. "That is our next stop."

"Are you sure?" asked Luke skeptically.

"Absolutely," I replied. "I do not know who pilots that ship, only that it will take us to our next quest."

No one spoke as the ship – a Republic-era cruiser that had been modified to include an extensive weaponry system – landed at the edge of the forest and dropped its loading ramp.


	22. Cyborg: There Is Another

**Chapter XXI – Cyborg: There Is Another**

"Well, what do we have here? Another mixed bag, I see, but what a mix! An acklay, a weird droid, a stormtrooper, the galaxy's finest, some bird thing… and Luke Skywalker? Darth Vader? Boys, I do believe we've hit the jackpot! Boss'll be pleased! Take 'em this way!"

The muzzle of a blaster shoved painfully into the small of my back, forcing me forward. Again I attempted to wrench free, but the hulking Trandoshans holding me were far stronger than I. My hands bound behind me, my lightsaber gone, I had no choice for now but to comply.

What had I been thinking! It was a trap, a fool trap! I had blindly trusted the ring, leading the others aboard the cruiser without even thinking… and practically into the arms of the pirates. They had attacked us so swiftly that we were subdued before we could even draw a weapon… and before I could hide myself behind an illusion. They knew me for who I was, and they were not about to release me or let me out of my sight. Presumed danger was not the only reason for this vigilance – I was worth a fortune if they could turn me in to the Alliance.

Even the ring seemed to be confining me – the moment I attempted a mind trick on my captors, the ring bit painfully into my finger. A warning, perhaps? What danger was there in using the Force? I tried again – and this time the ring did not merely stab into my hand, it released a flood of its own power into me, counteracting the Force and forcing it back before I could draw on it.

Had the ring suddenly turned traitor? Had it decided I was not worthy to wear it? Or was it simply preventing me from cutting off the quest prematurely?

I turned my head to seek out the others. Ash hung limply by her legs from the grip of a Twi'lek like a butchered fowl in a market, wings askew. Two Whiphids were dragging a manacled Luke forward, hands clamped so tightly around his arms I feared they would break bones. Oddly enough, he seemed completely serene, as if he were merely taking a stroll with a friend. The Gotal-Zabrak duo holding Fett were having a rougher time of it, for the hunter thrashed and jerked in a desperate attempt to break free. Tuck was the only one of us humans who went uncuffed – not necessary, seeing as he was still unconscious from the stun blast to his chest and was carried over the shoulder of a Besalisk like a sack of laundry. On my other side, Jessa was shackled from neck to ankle with heavy chains and hauled by a cluster of Gammoreans, her eyes afire with fury. Nightwind, too, was chained, and it took twenty men to keep him under control as he reared and struggled to escape.

The creature leading us deeper into the bowels of the cruiser turned to smirk at us, pleased with her catch. She was a scarred dark-skinned Gungan, dressed in a sleeveless green leather bodyglove belted with scarlet reptile skin, a pair of heavy DL-44s holstered at her hips. Heavy gold rings pierced her curtain-like ears in several places, and her bare arms were banded with gold bracelets shaped like serpents. I scanned my memory, wondering if I knew this individual, but nothing was forthcoming. Then again, it had been over twenty years since I had seen Jar Jar Binks or any of his ilk…

"Relax, boys," the Gungan said with a sly smile. "Boss doesn't bite. Often."

Jessa let the Gungan know exactly where her Boss could bite her.

"My, my, aren't we in a pleasant mood." She spoke almost perfect Basic, without the added syllables typical of her kind's speech and only the slightest warping of the R sounds. "Trust me, we aren't the Empire. We treat our prisoners well, very well, until…" She shrugged. "Until Boss decided what to do with you, I guess."

"This Boss fellow sounds like quite a guy," Luke remarked casually.

"He's been around," she replied. "I'm his lieutenant. Call me Cleiko."

I inspected Cleiko more carefully. She wore no insignia, no sign of rank. Neither she nor her fellow pirates wore the mark of Black Sun – or any crime syndicate, pirate ring, or mercenary guild, for that matter. Independently operating pirates, perhaps? But if that was so, who was Boss? Who did she answer to?

"Tell us more about your superior," I requested.

"He wants it to be a surprise," Cleiko replied. "I'll only say this – he's a powerful creature in every sense of the word. He'll crush you to a pulp if you cross him. He has plenty of troops and servants to do his bidding. And his wealth would put your former estate to shame, Lord Vader. Even you could not claim to own your own planet."

"He owns a planet?" I repeated.

"Just a small, backwater, out-of-the-way planet," she said dismissively. "The natives call it Earth."

Jessa spluttered. "Earth? Who'd wanna own Earth?"

Cleiko gave Jessa a faintly surprised look. "You know of Earth?"

"Know of Earth? That's my homeworld!"

"Jessa, shut up!" hissed Fett, but Cleiko had already caught on. She motioned for the guards to stop, then strode up to the chained cyborg and stared long and hard into her brown eyes. Jessa glowered back fiercely. Had she still possessed lips, they would have been curled in a feral snarl.

"So…" Cleiko murmured. "So." A grin split her long mouth. "Boss will be most interested in you, young lady." She motioned sharply for everyone to continue.

"Hnnngh." That was Tuck, waking up at last. "What the…"

"Trooper's awake," the Besalisk informed Cleiko.

"We're almost there, don't worry about him." She led us down a final corridor, one that terminated in a set of blood-red doors. "And yes, he owns the planet of Earth. Not that it does him a whole lot of good in my opinion, but he enjoys it. Goes down for a visit sometimes. Fool natives don't even realize he exists, let alone that they're practically his property." She keyed open the door. "Wonder if he's even in… ah, he is!"

The seven of us were shoved into a room the size of a banquet hall, yet completely bare of any furnishing whatsoever. The walls were of smooth gray durasteel naked of any decoration. Grooves and scuffs patterned the steel floor, and one wall was made up entirely of a single great window revealing a spectacular view of the surrounding starscape. A solitary figure stood before that window, cloaked back turned toward us, clawed hands clasped behind his back. I froze in my tracks, stunned, until a jab from a blaster prodded me forward again. This could not be… it was not possible… I had expected almost anything but this…

"What the hell!" shrieked Jessa, echoing my thoughts.

Fett also recognized the ship's commander, and he stopped struggling and gave me a startled look, as if expecting me to assure him that he was hallucinating.

"Boss, I've brought them," Cleiko told him.

The creature turned to face us.

He was nothing like Jessa. I do not know how in the galaxy I got that notion. He was much taller, much stockier, less compact and streamlined, more exposed machinery and crazy angles. Her faceplate was narrower and longer, giving it a slightly equine look; his was quite clearly evocative of a skull. She moved like a panther, graceful, smooth, and stealthy; his gait more resembled an ancient reptile or a huge predatory bird. And his eyes… I had grown so accustomed to Jessa's medium-brown human eyes that the feral, yellow, slit-pupiled gaze that now fixed upon me sent a tremor down my spine.

"Where did you get this lot?" His voice was just as I remembered it – tinny and guttural, with a strange desperate edge to it like that of a man on the brink of insanity.

"General Grievous," I said aloud. There. I admitted it. I accepted that the impossible stood before me, that one of the most deadly leaders of the CIS had somehow risen, phoenix-like, from his grave to haunt me anew.

"What the hell!" Jessa had yet to come to grips with that, it would seem.

"They strolled onto our ship like fools, Boss," Cleiko replied with a smug grin. "Practically walked right into our arms."

"Hmph." The cyborg general strode closer, his acid-yellow gaze raking us, his voice rambling on like a flooded river, interrupted occasionally by coughing spasms. "Not much promise to this lot… boy's a scrawny thing… bird's useless… troopers are a credit a dozen… hunter looks pretty much spent… an acklay? Been awhile since we've come across an acklay, and he's young, can be trained…"

"Boss, look again," Cleiko urged, displeased that her commander seemed to have overlooked the obvious. "Look who leads them."

He met my gaze for a moment. No emotion registered in those reptilian eyes. "Darth Vader, fellow cyborg, deposed military leader." Another bout of hacking. "What's so significant about that?"

"The Rebellion is willing to pay for him," she pressed. "A grand price too…"

"What makes you think I want the Rebellion's money?" demanded Grievous.

Cleiko hesitated, startled at being rebuffed. "It's a fortune, sir!"

"And I have a thousand such fortunes already, why do I need another?" His glare was on his lieutenant now. "The Rebellion can have him once I've finished with him, but not before."

The Gungan frowned. "The Rebellion doesn't pay well for damaged goods."

My guts clenched. So Grievous' sadistic ways had not changed at all.

"What the hell!" Jessa screeched for the third time.

"And what's your problem?" Grievous rounded on Jessa now.

"You're supposed to be dead!" Jessa retorted. "Obi-wan Kenobi shot you in the guts! You fried like a bug! What are you doing here?"

"Such cheek for a droid…" he snarled, grabbing her by the neck.

I attempted to jerk free, intent on coming to her aid, but the Trandoshan guards hissed warningly and held me fast. I had always feared Jessa's mouth would be the death of her, and it seemed that premonition would come to pass…

But upon locking eyes with her, Grievous froze. Jessa held his gaze, surprised but unafraid, perfectly at ease despite the grip on her throat. The two cyborgs continued their mute standoff for several minutes, not moving, oblivious to the puzzled stares of the guards and fellow captives. Grievous had seen her eyes, seen that Jessa was no droid, but a machine-creature like himself, and it seemed he had no idea how to proceed.

At last, one claw at a time, Grievous released his hold. He took a slow step back, his gaze never leaving hers.

"So," he murmured, "there is another."

She nodded.

"When?"

"Five years ago. On my birthday, no less. What a present, huh?"

"What of Dalzor?" he inquired.

"Dead," she replied. "For a couple years now."

"I see."

And with a swift, brutal motion, he grabbed the chains that bound Jessa and tore them apart like damp paper.

"This one," he informed Cleiko, "will be my guest. Take the others to the cell blocks."

Shock suffused the Gungan's features. "You can't be serious!"

"Are you backtalking me?" snarled Grievous.

She curled her lips before whirling to face the guards. "Follow me to the Detention Block…"

"No!" Jessa exclaimed.

Grievous eyed her coolly. "You think your voice carries authority here, child?"

She glared up at him. "My friends and I come as a package deal, cyber-breath. If you have me as a guest, you have them as guests. If you have them as prisoners, you have me as a prisoner. Got it?"

The silence could have been cut with a lightsaber. At any moment I expected the general to explode in rage and crush Jessa…

But to my great surprise, he gave a barking, coughing laugh.

"You have some nerve, child!" he rasped. "You'll go far if you don't get yourself killed first." He turned to Cleiko. "Change of plans, Lieutenant. Take them to the living quarters and get them cleaned up. They'll join us for dinner tonight. But keep guards outside their doors at all times."

The Gungan gaped. "This is a joke, right?"

"Don't push my patience, Lieutenant," he growled. "Follow my orders if you want to leave this room alive."

Flushed with rage, she whirled and stormed out. Dumbfounded at our sudden turn in fortune, we followed, still surrounded by guards. What had just happened?

_Break…_

When we met Jessa again, it was in the mess hall of the cruiser at the evening meal. The chamber was packed with creatures of every species and profession – bounty hunters, pirates, smugglers, big-game hunters, slavers, mercenaries, bodyguards, escorts, spice dealers, hustlers, computer hackers, and virtually every grade of scum one could scrape off the dank underbelly of the galaxy. The walls rang with laughter, chatter, and drunken caterwauling as they took an opportunity to relax, totally oblivious to our entry despite the fact that we had a half-grown acklay trailing after us.

"You guys all right?" Jessa inquired, pushing past a Quarren to reach us.

"Confused, but all right," Luke replied. He gave her a puzzled look. "What's going on? And who is this Grievous, and why is he supposed to be dead?"

"During the Clone Wars, a cyborg general named Grievous surfaced. He was a cruel and ruthless foe, fond of slaughtering Jedi and keeping their lightsabers as trophies. Shortly before Order 66 was given to eradicate the Jedi, Master Kenobi was sent to find and capture or destroy him. He reported back that the general was dead." I decided not to mention what had gone on after that announcement – despite the passage of a quarter of a century, the wounds that ordeal had torn still burned.

"In the movie, Kenobi killed Grievous by shooting him in the exposed internal organs," Jessa added. "No one could survive that." She shuddered.

"So why is he among the living?" asked Tuck. "Especially after you claimed he had been 'fried like a bug?'"

"Turns out the movie was a bit skewed on that point. Kenobi did shoot him, but missed the organs. He hit his hip joint, and he fell. Then Kenobi kicked him over the edge of a cliff. Of course, he assumed the fall killed Grievous, but apparently he's a tougher cookie than Kenobi thought. By the time he clawed his way to a working ship and got to Mustafare to meet with the rest of the CIS leaders, though, it was all over. Nothing but dead bodies. So he scrounged up a crew and decided to go solo." She gestured to the gathered criminals. "And here we are. Not a criminal empire exactly. More like a country club for criminals. They have a place to recharge, resupply, take a load off… for a price."

"And your planet is the country club," I theorized.

"Only a few make it to Earth," she replied. "He owns property on over a dozen systems…"

She fell silent as Grievous approached our party. The droid general placed a clawed hand on her shoulder and addressed me.

"I take it your friend has been telling you my story," he growled.

"As she stated, General, we are a package deal," I replied, giving a respectful bow. "If we believe others in our company will benefit from information, we give it."

He nodded once. "You and your company have nothing to fear from me, Lord Vader… yet. But I warn you – the first sign of treachery or intrigue, and all deals are off." He addressed us as a group now. "You are all under guard from this moment on. You may not leave your sleeping quarters without an armed escort. And the lower levels of this ship are off-limits to you. Understood?"

"I thought we were guests," muttered Fett.

Grievous' eyes flashed. "Hold your tongue, hunter. I am being generous. Don't make me rescind the privileges I have given you."

"Understood, General," I replied.

"Good." He motioned for Jessa to follow him. "There are things we must discuss…"

Jessa gave me a nervous look – finding herself the sudden object of General Grievous' fascination was undoubtedly unnerving. I could do nothing to help her, however. And besides, at the moment he seemed to be no threat to her. Curious, perhaps, but not a threat.

"This is weird," Tuck whispered. "I thought we were going to be locked up. But he's actually letting us wander his ship."

"Not necessarily," Ash pointed out. "We are still under guard. And there is the matter of the lower levels. I wonder what he must be hiding there…"

It would have been wiser if Grievous had never mentioned the forbidden levels of the ship. If he had just kept silent, we would never have suspected anything. But the knowledge that he had secrets locked away in the bowels of the ship only served to pique our curiosity, and the moment the evening meal had ended we met in our sleeping quarters – in actuality a large storage room refitted to accommodate four men, a bird, and an acklay. Jessa was not present, still in Grievous' company, and for the first time I noticed what a glaring gap in our fellowship her absence made.

"We have to find out what's down there," Luke insisted. "It could be important to our quest."

"I dunno," Tuck replied worriedly. "He's kind of extended his trust to us. And I get the feeling a guy like this doesn't do that lightly. If we go down there, the consequences could be nasty."

"Then we don't get caught," Fett replied shortly. "That simple."

"He's obsessed with Jessa," Ash pointed out. "That works to our advantage. Not only does it keep him occupied while we investigate, but it means we have a handy source of information. She can keep us informed of what he tells her."

"What do I do?" asked Nightwind. "Want to help."

"You can stir up a distraction," Luke suggested. "Occupy our guards."

He bobbed his head eagerly. "Okay! Know just what to do!"

He must have sensed something we had not, for the moment we exited our quarters he was off like a shot. I wondered what he was up to but decided not to question him until we had finished our investigative mission. While the guards pursued the "mad acklay," we split up and departed in different directions, with strict instructions to return to our quarters in half an hour.

I drew on the power of the ring, and this time it responded, cloaking me in its illusionary power. I slipped down a side corridor and made for the stairs. Taking a lift would be far too obvious to anyone searching for us. And besides, a lift was the worst possible place to be cornered…

The ring tightened warningly as I descended the stairs, a silent reminder to be cautious. With every additional step I took, it grew colder and colder, until the chill spread into my bones and threatened to freeze my blood. So something was down here… something ugly… terrible… something that could spell our doom…

The lights on the second level were dimmed to a quarter of their normal capacity. It was difficult to make out anything in the indefinite light, but I could only assume there was nothing of interest here. I prepared to descend to the next level…

"…quite the menagerie, don't you think?"

Grievous! I froze, straining to hear. Who was he talking to…

"You don't always keep them here, do you? I mean, not that I wouldn't mind taking my own private zoo with me wherever I went, but I think they deserve some space to roam, don't they?"

A cold hand gripped my stomach. Jessa!

"The bulk of my collection is on another planet, and yes, they have plenty of space. Only a few accompany me on my travels."

"Where did you get the white tiger? I hope you didn't steal her…"

A rasping laugh. "If it's my planet, it's not really stealing, is it? No, actually, she came from a zoo that had too many of the creatures and not enough room. They thought she was going to a botanical garden in Korea, of all places."

Jessa's clear laughter. "It's still kind of hard to believe that you, of all people, are interested enough in our dirtball planet to want to buy it off the Empire. I mean, it's not exactly a Mecca of technology or culture…"

"It has its charms." A pause. "Cleiko tells me it's your homeworld. And you mentioned that Dalzor had taken you from your family."

Jessa did not answer.

"We were on our way to Kessel to drop off a few of our spice dealers…" He paused to consider. "That can be postponed. Perhaps, my child, we can arrange a detour. Track down your parents."

Shock drove the breath from my lungs. Was that compassion I heard in his voice? Impossible! This was NOT the Grievous I had encountered so many years ago! That creature had been sadistic, insane, cruel beyond belief, incapable of the slightest bit of empathy toward any living creature…

And yet had I once been described using those very terms?

Jessa was quiet for a long time. I waited, sure that she would see his offer as some kind of ruse, sure that she would decline.

"You'd do that for me?" she replied softly.

"For you," he replied. "Jessalyn, do you know how long I have searched this galaxy, seeking another like me? Do you know the torment I have gone through, shunned as an abomination, a freak?" He laughed, but not the ruthless laugh of a beast, but softly. "Of course you do. You, of all the creatures among the stars, know what I have been through. You and I are alike in many ways. Surely you see that."

"But… but we're not that alike. I'm human and you're… well…"

"Never was. But that is an insignificant detail of the past. This is now."

Jessa sighed. "I can't go. I've made promises to the others. I can't…"

"The others? Admit it, Jessalyn, they think we're freaks. Monsters of technology. Even Vader, a supposed cyborg, is more human than machine. Even he oozes revulsion when he lays eyes upon me." He gave a bitter, coughing laugh. "Throw your lot in with me, Jessalyn. You will never be a monster in my eyes. You will be honored as you should be."

"That's kind of you, Grievous…"

Their voices faded as they continued down the hall. I stood in the stairwell for the longest time, trying to digest what I had just heard. What had caused this great change in the general? Had he mellowed with age? Was he smitten by Jessa? Or a combination of both, perhaps? And that had most definitely NOT been the Jessa I had come to know. Her sarcastic wit, her acerbic edge, her bizarre sense of humor… none of that had been evident in her words with the droid general. "Lovestruck" was too strong a word… but was it possible that she had feelings of some kind for General Grievous?

A snarl brought me back to my senses, and I turned to see one of the Trandoshan guards behind me, leveling a blaster at me.

"I was just leaving," I assured him, waving me hand.

He grunted and stepped aside. So the mind trick worked this time. I would have to puzzle out why it was being so selective later.

The ring burned like a red-hot brand all the way back to our quarters, but why I could not fathom. I had seen nothing to indicate what our quest would be, and while I had felt a general unease in the lower levels, I had no idea what threat lurked down there. The only possible explanation was that our mission here was to defeat Grievous… but he had shown no sign of open hostility yet. Quite the opposite, in fact…

Jessa! Of all of us, I would have thought her the least likely to get tangled up in something like this!

Luke, Fett, Tuck, Ash, and Nightwind were already gathered when I arrived.

"About time, Father," Luke said with great relief. "You're fifteen minutes late. I almost came looking for you…"

I cut him off and related everything I had seen and heard, leaving out no detail, no matter how small. By the time I had finished, I had everyone staring at me, open-mouthed. Everyone but Ash, who simply looked grim – or as grim as a bird can appear.

"So Jessa is not one of us anymore, be it temporarily or permanently," she remarked gravely. "And something nasty awaits us on the last level…"


	23. Cyborg: A Moment of Understanding

**Chapter XXII – Cyborg: A Moment of Understanding**

Fett was the first to speak. "Figures."

"What do you mean?" I demanded.

"I had thought Jessa to be fairly intelligent," he growled. "Turns out she's just as brainless as the rest of her fool gender."

"Was that a slur against females I just heard?" inquired Ash, bristling her neck feathers.

"What does she see in him anyhow?" Luke wondered. "From what I've heard, he's a monster, a sadistic killer. I know they're similar in that they're cyborgs, but still…"

"Can we get back to the problem at hand?" Fett snapped.

"You started it," Tuck muttered.

"Enough, you two," I ordered. "The situation is difficult enough without you two fighting."

"What I want to know is exactly what it is Grievous wants to keep secret in that last level of the ship," said Ash. "And why it would bode such ill for us."

"The detention block?" suggested Luke.

"A torture chamber?" offered Tuck.

I shook my head at each suggestion. A prison block would have reeked of fear, anger, pain, and despair, and I had felt none of those things. A torture chamber, likewise, would have radiated agony. The chill dread I had felt down there did not match either description. It was more of… an emptiness. A living death, if such existed…

It was decided – another journey into the lower levels was necessary. We had to know what we faced before we could hope to fight it. Tuck volunteered to go, and I insisted on accompanying him. With Jessa gone, I theorized, it fell on me to accomplish this quest.

"Tomorrow, we try again," I told the others. "Our lives could very well depend on it."

_Break…_

The next morning, as we gathered in the dining hall for the morning meal, we saw Jessa again. Or rather, Luke saw her and froze, his spoon halfway to his lips.

"What is it?" asked Tuck.

Luke nodded at the head of the room.

Grievous had just entered the mess hall – though why was beyond me, as the cyborg did not partake of food. And just behind him, walking with a slow and graceful step, was a Jessa so transformed I scarcely recognized her. All the scratches and scuffs from the road had been polished away, the dirt and grit cleaned from her joints, the off-white of her faceplate repainted. Her twisted leg from her encounter with the taozin had been repaired, as had the dozens of dents sustained in our journey. Her tattered cape had been discarded, replaced by a rich cloak of shimmering dark green silk fastened at her chestplate with a crystal-and-platinum brooch.

"Well, she seems to have taken to her new life well enough," Fett noted caustically.

I thought otherwise. Jessa seemed uncomfortable, uneasy. Her eyes kept flickering our way, yet the moment she made eye contact with any of us she looked away quickly. I wondered if she knew something I didn't.

"I'm going to have a talk with her," I decided.

Luke gave me an incredulous look. "Now? While she's hanging on Grievous' arm?"

"Not now. But very soon. She needs to talk. I sense it."

Ash looked up from her bowl and gave me a warning look. "Careful, Vader. We don't know where her loyalties lie now. Watch your words and use caution."

"Strange," I remarked, not without a little irony in my voice. "We said that when you first showed up among us as well."

She did not have a reply for that.

As soon as Tuck finished his meal, he and I departed together. We opened the door to our quarters and allowed Nightwind to come out.

"Do what you did last night," I told him. "It seemed to work well enough."

The acklay nodded eagerly. "He's got animals here! One of them's another acklay! Been a long time since I've seen another acklay…" And he scurried away.

Tuck cocked his head at an amused angle. "How much do you wager that it's a female acklay, judging by his actions?"

I was about to argue that Nightwind was only a baby, but I caught myself. This was no hatchling anymore – he was rapidly approaching maturity. And with that, of course, would come everything that went with adulthood, including the urge to reproduce.

Again, down the stairs to the lower levels, we descended. And again I felt the ring constrict and go cold. Biting cold, so cold it burrowed into my bones and slithered down my spine, and it was all I could do not to shiver…

Fourth level – Grievous' menagerie, the smell of animal refuse and old meat, a cacophony of screams and roars and howls, punctuated by the shouts of men as they struggled to control some beast or other. Third level – living quarters, a few maintenance droids, a lone smuggler puffing at a death stick. Second level – dim hallways again, just like last night.

First level…

The door was locked, but it only took a touch of the Force to open it. The moment the doors slid open, a wave of black chill rolled out like the foul breath of an underworld guardian, smothering us and making us gag. What was in here that could be so profoundly evil? No, not evil in and of itself… but it was certainly being used for evil designs…

"Do we dare go in?" asked Tuck.

"We must," I replied, and rested my left hand on his shoulder, as if the touch of the ring could instill some comfort and confidence. It must have had some effect, even if it were only psychological, for he squared back his shoulders and led the way in.

There was no illumination here save the lights of my chestplate, which of course did absolutely nothing. I wished we had thought to bring a light source – a glowrod, even a lightsaber… but of course Grievous had disarmed us on our capture…

As if in response to my desire, the ring took on a luminescence of its own, exuding a white-gold light. I raised my left hand like a torch and began to examine the room.

"Sithspawn!" Tuck swore in a pained yelp. "Ran into something metal… a storage crate? Table?"

I lowered my hand in order to get a good look at what Tuck had hit.

It still chills me to think of it… to remember the light revealing it in its hideous entirety… to hear Tuck gasp in horror, to hear my own disgusted oath…

The light rested upon the still features of a Trandoshan – the very one I had duped with the Force last night. His ugly reptilian features were twisted in agony, his thick claws clenched as if trying to strangle his tormentor. There was life there, I could sense it, but an empty shell of a life, an immortality of nothingness.

He was frozen in carbonite.

"He treats his own men like this…" Tuck said dazedly.

I made a circuit of the chamber, leaving nothing unexamined. There were dozens – no, over a hundred – blocks of carbonite in this chamber, some lying flat on the floor, others hanging from the walls like fine works of art. Embedded in each block was an unlucky being – humans, Twi'lecks, Wookies, Sullustans, Falleen, Zabraks, Grans, Dugs, Quarren, even a bewildered-looking protocol droid. In one corner several of these blocks had been haphazardly stacked in a disorderly pile; an inspection from the ring proved that these were victims who had died during the freezing process. And in another corner of the room… the freezing apparatus, its nozzles still crusted with carbon and its interior still reeking metallically.

"I suspect that this is the fate of any who cross the general," I told Tuck.

Tuck shuddered. "I've heard rumors… people who say they've been frozen like this… they say it's like being killed… but the moment of death goes on forever…"

A flash of memory… a smuggler being lowered into a glowing portal, then emerging in a similar block, his face a mask of terrible agony… my daughter looking on in pain…

Metallic footsteps announced the arrival of another. Immediately the ring's glow winked out.

"Quick, hide!" Tuck pushed me into the carbon-freezing unit, then squeezed in after me.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" I demanded.

"You got any better ones? Scoot over, I can't breathe…"

"There's no room to move over…"

"Shhh!"

The door hissed open. We heard the quiet _tic-tic _of claws on the metal floor, the creak of joints as the intruder passed between the slabs of carbonite, a glow rod held aloft. The figure paused, raised its head like an animal scenting its prey, and spoke.

"Y'all can come out of hiding, I know you're in here," Jessa advised.

I hauled myself out of the freezing chamber. "What are you doing down here?"

"When the acklay crashed Grievous' little zoo on the fourth floor, I suspected something was up," she replied. "So I came looking, and here you are." Her gaze swept the room, and her eyes hardened like brown ice. "Who could do this? It's disgusting…"

"Grievous did it," Tuck snapped, brushing himself off. "Don't you get it? General Grievous does this all the time, and he'll do it again…"

She cut him off. "Darth, we need to talk."

"Yes," I told her firmly. "We do."

_Break…_

Jessa now had her own quarters, not far from Grievous' own chambers. The décor was expensive but very tasteful, with green and silver hues dominating. There were a variety of artifacts from her homeworld in this room, and she spent a few minutes acquainting me with them.

"He says I'm welcome to change anything," she remarked, making an adjustment to a music player. "He wants me to feel at home."

I said nothing.

She glided across the room, to where a deep window-seat had been set into the wall. She curled up, cat-like, beneath the great window and its view of the starscape beyond, then nodded beside her, an invitation to join her.

"Does it feel like home?" I asked her, sitting down next to her.

She shifted position so that her knee joints were tucked against her chestplate, like a teenage girl about to discuss something awkward. "I haven't had a home for so long, it's hard to say."

For several minutes we sat there. I was silent, struggling to find the words. Jessa sang softly along to the music that filled the chamber, eyes closed.

"Is Grievous what you expected him to be?" I said at last.

She opened her eyes and gazed out the window. "No. Not at all. He's… surprising."

"How so?"

She shrugged.

"Perhaps we should speak of something else," I offered.

"Right." She hugged her knees closer to her chest. "Everyone must think I've betrayed them or something."

"We are confused," I told her truthfully. "We have traveled together for so long. I suppose we are simply surprised that you can forget us so quickly."

"I haven't forgotten you," she snapped. "How can I forget? You're all a family to me, more so than my own family… it's been so long I've forgotten what my own family's voices sound like… you're all I have, I can't forget you…"

And she began to weep. Not the hysterical sobs that had seized Tyra on Kruvex, but slow hopeless tears that seeped from the corners of her eyes and traced glassy paths down her faceplate. Her metallic body shuddered as she struggled to keep herself under control.

"Jessa, no!" I urged her, taking her shoulders in my hands. "Let it out. Don't hold it in. It will only hurt you. Let it out."

She collapsed against me, sobbing quietly, her claws grabbing handfuls of my cloak and twisting. I let her release her emotions, holding her, not speaking.

"He knows…" she whimpered. "He knows what it's like… he understands." She buried her faceplate in my shoulder. "Dalzor took him too… dragged him out of a crashed ship… cut him apart and made a beast of him… just like he made a beast of me… he knows how it feels…"

"Oh Jessa," I murmured.

"And I know you know it too… but this is different. This is… I don't know how to say it… it's all mixed-up and I'm not making much sense…"

"Jessa," I interrupted softly, "how old were you when you attempted suicide?"

"What?"

"How old were you? This is important."

She drew a deep shuddering breath. "Fifteen."

"It seems to me," I went on, "that you have put yourself on hold for five years. In your mind, in your heart, you are still fifteen. You are still a teenager, still trying to find your place in the galaxy." I was only speculating at this point, but there was no argument yet, so perhaps I was right. "And I sense that, right now, you are torn – torn between completing the quest and going back home… or remaining here with Grievous."

She nodded, pulling away and setting back on her haunches. "I don't know what to do. Being with you guys, I finally felt like I had a place where I could belong. But I feel that way when I'm with him, too. We're counterparts. We're… alike."

"More alike than you and I can ever be." I touched my own chestplate. "Despite being a cyborg myself, I can still claim to be human. It is difficult for you to say that."

"Exactly." She folded her arms and stared out the window again. "I can talk some sense into him. I can convince him to let everyone down there go…"

"And after that?"

She paused, thoughtful. "I'll get back to you on it."

I stood. "Whatever you decide, Jessa, whether or not I agree with it, I will support your decision." And with that, I turned to go.

"Oh, Darth?"

I faced her again.

"If you tell the others about this, I'll bite you."

"But you don't have a mouth."

Her eyes flashed mischievously. "I can get creative."

I laughed a little. Emotional or not, she was still Jessa.

As I made my way back to our quarters, I sensed something was very wrong. The ring burned ominously, the pain increasing the closer I got to our quarters. What had gone on? Had Grievous reneged on his promise? Had there been a fight, an accident?

My worst fears were realized when I came to the modified storage unit – Nightwind lay sprawled on the floor, drugged insensible, tranquilizing darts bristling from his neck and shoulders like oddly colored spines. Ash, too, had been subdued and drugged, and charred blots on the floor and a hideous stench of vaporized metal marked a titanic struggle between Grievous' droid guards and the powers of the phoenix. Of Luke, Fett, and Tuck there was no sign.

"Ash, where are they?" I demanded, kneeling, lifting the bedraggled bird from the floor, and shaking her. Either her attacker had used too little of the drug or her body was resistant to it, for she was still conscious, if not fully coherent.

"Gone," she moaned, eyes half-lidded and sunken. "Went with the cyborg… head hurts… stop shaking me…"

"Where did he take them?"

"Don't know… his soldiers came, I burned a few… I told you to stop shaking…"

"Why?" I demanded. "What did he want with them?"

"You should know that, pal."

I whirled, dropping Ash. Lieutenant Cleiko stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame with a slim hand on one hip, a smug look on her long flat snout.

"Where are they?" I snarled.

"Oh, around." She pulled a blaster from her belt and leveled it casually at me. "They made a mistake, you see. The mistake of crossing the Boss. The mistake of trying to play the hero."

"What do you mean?"

"Don't be coy, Lord Vader. I know where you were last night. I know where you and the trooper were this morning. I know you've seen where offenders go. Why do you think we have so few fights aboard this ship? What do you think we do with our prisoners? What do you think your friends were up to after you left so conveniently?"

I winced. Of course Luke would take the heroic route. Having heard of Grievous' cruelty, he would want to free the prisoners from their carbonite prison, especially having a friend who had undergone that torment. From what I had heard of his life, he was always like that, helping others at the expense of his own safety.

"Up and at 'em, big guy," she said in a taunting voice. "You want to see your friends one last time, don't you?"

The ring's power coursed through me again, smothering the Force before I could draw on it in defense. Bewildered, I rose to my feet, hands in the air.

"Good choice." She moved behind me and planted the muzzle of her gun against my back. "Move it along, big fella. We have places to be." She chuckled. "And here I thought you'd be difficult to manage."

Again we were brought before Grievous, and this time there was an audience – every soul of Grievous' hired scum, it seemed. Luke, Fett, and Tuck were already before him, forced to their knees and their hands cuffed behind them. Cleiko bound my own wrists similarly and shoved me before her superior, smirking all the while.

"So," snarled the cyborg general, pacing restlessly before us. "I extend my trust to you, I grant you safe passage aboard my vessel, and this is the thanks I get? You dare trespass where it is forbidden? You dare violate my command?"

Luke met his gaze. "Do your men know what you keep in your basement, Grievous?" he asked. "Have you told them what happens to those who cross the line?"

Grievous struck him across the face with the back of a clawed hand. "Hold your tongue, scum," he hissed. "Of course they know. How would I keep them in line if they didn't know?"

Luke glared back, blood streaming from his broken nose.

"You have decided your own fates," he rasped. "And you will join those you have seen on the lowest level… indefinitely. Lieutenant, take them away!"

"Wait!"

Grievous looked up, and his flashing yellow eyes softened as Jessa entered the chamber. She carried herself with the air of a princess, head high, steps slow, and in response everyone unconsciously accorded her respect. Even Cleiko bowed her head respectfully.

"Jessalyn," Grievous purred. "I regret to inform you…"

"I heard," she retorted, none of her counterpart's pleasantness mirrored in her voice. "Your doors aren't soundproof. I know what you plan to do." She approached the general until her faceplate was mere centimeters from him and addressed him in an angry hiss. "And if you do to them what you've done to so many others, you'll have to do it to me as well."

Grievous laughed dismissively. "But you have no part in this…"

"I was down there this morning," she countered. "Don't believe me, ask Vader and Tuck."

His eyes narrowed. "They are a part of your past, Jessalyn. They mean nothing to you now. You belong here. Your future is here. Why worry yourself over them?"

She refused to back down. "You're going to let them go. You're going to let all the people you deep-froze go. And you're going to stop being such a sadistic bastard, you hear me? Otherwise I'm leaving."

The gathered thugs laughed derisively.

"You want I should nuke the tart?" demanded Cleiko, leveling a blaster at Jessa's head.

Grievous raised a clawed hand to stay the Gungan. "No. She speaks her mind. She will not suffer for that." He met her gaze again. "Go to your quarters. You should not have to see this."

She took a step back. "You're really going to go through with this, aren't you?" she said in disbelief.

He did not answer.

Her gaze moved to us, then to Grievous, then to us again. I waited, breathless with anticipation, wondering what her next move would be. Would she cave in?

I could never have predicted her next move – she raised her head, spread her arms, and began to sing.

"Night time sharpens, heightens each sensation – darkness wakes and stirs imagination…"

Stunned, we could only stare at her as she lost herself in the strains of the music. Cleiko gaped as if Jessa had just lost her mind. Grievous stepped back a pace, head cocked animal-like to one side in confusion. The hired scum shifted restlessly, murmuring speculatively.

"What's she doing?" mouthed Tuck.

He might well ask!

The ring pulsed once, and my cuffs loosened. Puzzled, I tugged experimentally, and my hands slid free. What was the ring up to now? Its actions had been so strange of late that I had no idea whether I could trust it or not…

The ring pulsed again, prompting me. I extended the Force, finding that it would once again obey my commands, and unlocked the hand binders of the others. Somehow I knew that they would need their hands in the next few moments. I looked around – everyone was too entranced by Jessa's song to notice that we were breaking free. Was this her plan?

Oblivious to us, she placed a hand to her chest, immersed in her music. "Close your eyes – start a journey to a strange new world – leave all thoughts of the world you knew before – close your eyes, let the music set you FFRRRREEEEEEEEE!"

The high note erupted into pure sonic hell as she activated the audio-attack.

I was instantly grateful that my hands were free, though they did little to muffle the screech when I clapped them over the auditory receptors of my helmet. Grievous, being the closest to her, suffered the worst of it, collapsing from the shock and pain of the blow. Screams and bellows of rage and pain filled the room as Grievous' thugs felt her wrath.

Jessa wasted no time – she bent down, ripped two objects from Grievous' waist, and bolted. Luke, Tuck, Fett, and I were close behind, though still reeling from the pain.

The moment she addressed us, the shriek mercifully silenced. "I got your lightsabers. Thought you'd want 'em back."

"Jessa, we were so sure you weren't coming back…" Luke panted.

"Save the lecture!" she barked. "We gotta get Nightwind and Ash!"

"They're unconscious or close to it," I replied. "Grievous' men drugged them."

"Then we'll drag them out if we have to!" she retorted. "There's a couple good-sized ships in one of the hangars, we can squeeze in there and blow this joint."

When we reached the storage room, we were relieved to see that both creatures had awakened, though Nightwind tottered dangerously on his feet. We had to slow our pace to allow him to keep up.

"Dizzy…" he moaned. "Stupid droids… don't want to see another droid in my life…"

"I don't blame you," Ash replied.

The main hangar was deserted – had the entire ship turned out to see us punished? A variety of ships stood at the ready, including a squat military gunship that looked just large enough to hold our party. It looked as if nothing could halt our escape…

"Leaving so soon?"

Grievous stepped out from behind the gunship, eyes afire with indignation at being bested. His gaze focused on Jessa, and he raised a hand as if commanding her to stop.

Jessa did not even slow down. She was beyond taking orders from the droid general now. Like a panther she sprang, impacting against the general with all her weight. Entangled they fell, cartwheeling over several times before they finally separated into two beings again.

"Jessa!" I slid to a halt.

"Get on the ship, you idiot!" she ordered. "Now!" And she ignited the lightsabers she had stolen back from Grievous.

The two cyborgs circled warily, light swords blazing, eyes locked, joints and servomotors tensed for combat. Despite her command, we did not board the ship – we COULD not board. Despite all that had occurred in the past twenty-four hours, we could not abandon her now, even though it was perfectly clear that she intended to sacrifice herself as a distraction, that we might escape.

Grievous struck, bringing both blades down with frightening force to sever her arms. She blocked the blow, catching both blades with crossed sabers, but just barely. Her arms shook with the force of his strike, and I feared for her life. She was not a fighter, she hadn't Grievous' training, his experience… he would crush her in a heartbeat…

She attacked without warning, her foot catching his right leg in a brutal kick. The limb buckled and bent at a horrible angle, and Grievous rocked dangerously on his feet. Emboldened, she slashed at his vulnerable midsection. He parried the blow but gave up his advantage in the fight. Was I wrong, and she did indeed have a chance at victory?

It was not to be, however. Within seconds the advantage swung in his direction again, and it was the short work of a few more seconds to entangle Jessa in her own blows. A well-placed kick swept her feet out from under her, and she went down hard, knocking the breath from her.

I extended my arm, ready to call a weapon to my hand and defend her.

"Don't!" Jessa shouted. "Get away! Now!"

Grievous stared at Jessa a long moment, panting and coughing, sparks bursting from his damaged leg. He raised his weapons, the tips pointing at her vulnerable neck… and extinguished them.

"A novice fighter," he noted, extending a clawed hand as if to help her up, "but not beyond teaching. Devious little trick, I might add, back in my chamber."

She got to her feet without his help. "You weren't listening to reason. I had to do something to protect my friends."

"I see." He turned to face us, amusement in his eyes. "So your loyalty remains with them."

She nodded. "I have an obligation to them. I'm sorry, but I can't accept your offer. I cannot stay."

He saluted. "Not all can fight this honorably. Go then, Jessalyn, and do what you must do." He chuckled. "I do hope our paths will cross again."

She saluted back. "May the Force be with you, Grievous."

Amazing. So the general had some honor after all. The galaxy never ceased to surprise me.

We boarded the gunship and departed without further incident. While I plotted our course, Jessa retreated to a far corner of the ship, one hand at her throat fingering the crystal brooch Grievous had given her. The others pressed her for answers, demanding to know what had gone on between her and the droid general, but she refused to speak to them. In fact, she was remarkably quiet for the rest of the journey.

"Let her alone," I told them finally. "Suffice it to say that she had her own challenge to face before she could accomplish her quest."

"Still, she could be a little less…" began Fett.

He never finished his sentence. For the ship bucked wildly, and claxons wailed to announce our shields were gone. Something solid hit us, and we tumbled uncontrollably into the atmosphere of a planet, followed down by an attacking ship…

And my quest began.


	24. Dragon: The Awakening

**Chapter XXIII – Dragon: The Awakening**

Vaal was a harsh world of dry savannah and sheer cliffs, of blistering heat punctuated by violent monsoons and deadly grass fires. The only civilization was a lone Imperial relay station, commonly manned by two or three engineers and few, if any, troops. The rest of the planet belonged to some of the most savage creatures in the galaxy, fighting tooth and claw to maintain their toehold in the planet's unforgiving ecosystem, killing or being killed in turn, the weak falling to the strong, the theory of the food chain in brutal practice.

It was here that our ship lay, in ruins, approximately a kilometer from the now-abandoned relay station. Had the Imperials fled, abandoning their posts upon hearing of the Empire's demise? Or had they fallen prey to Vaal's savage wildlife?

At the moment, however, the fate of the relay station, not to mention any thought of defending ourselves from predators, were far from our minds. Something else had attracted our attentions.

"What the hell is it?" grumbled Fett, handing the scope back to Luke.

"I haven't the foggiest," he replied, peering at the horizon. "I've never seen it before."

Upon exiting the crashed gunship to take inventory of our situation, Nightwind had caught sight of a peculiar shape on the horizon. Luke dug a macroscope out of our supplies and studied it for some time before giving up on identifying it and relinquishing to the hunter. The only thing we learned was that it was humanoid, though not any humanoid alien anyone was familiar with.

"Let me have a look," Tuck requested.

Luke handed the scope over.

"Hmm. Odd. Ugly too. Nothing I've ever seen."

Ash fixed her gaze upon the ever-growing fleck on the horizon, her sharp golden eyes sparkling with consideration. "I see it… no, make that several. More are approaching." She narrowed her eyes, tried to frown, found her beak would not allow such an expression, and settled for a puzzled shake of her head. "I don't know what they are… and I should. Something is wrong."

Very wrong indeed, if the immortal among us could not identify this strange creature.

"Maybe we should turn it over to Vader," Tuck suggested. "It's his turn, after all. Maybe he'll know what it is."

My turn. My quest. It would be up to me to face whatever challenge we came across. The thought was daunting, to say the very least. To know the lives of our company could very well depend on my decisions was an intimidating prospect. Nonetheless, I would do what I had to do. I had no other recourse. With that resolve, I took the scope and placed it to the lenses of my mask.

Tuck was right – it was hideous, resembling a human body that had been decaying in some forgotten corner of a damp crypt. It had a slender, dark, hard body and a horribly disfigured tattooed face. It was encased in some sort of organic shell armor, and a serpent-shaped ornament wrapped around one arm. And it was not alone – I could make out at least a dozen more of the creatures trekking over the horizon, and more appeared the longer I looked.

"Any luck?" asked Luke.

"No," I replied, lowering the scope. "It is totally unfamiliar to me."

Luke frowned. "That's odd. I'd thought for sure you'd know…"

"What's a lady have to do to get a look at this thing?" complained Jessa.

"Sorry." I let her have the scope.

"Sure, just ignore the droid…" she grumbled, putting her eyes to the scope.

I extended the Force in the direction of the unknown creatures, trying to touch their awareness and ascertain their intentions. I was startled to find I could not sense them at all, could not touch them. Like the taozin, it was as if they did not exist.

As if to make up for this deficiency of the Force, the ring stabbed with such intense pain I felt every muscle in my body jerk in response. There was no doubting that these creatures were the object of our quest… but were we to fight them, aid them, or something else entirely? Their numbers were steadily increasing the longer we watched, so it seemed ludicrous to think we could fight them all off…

The ring knifed into my hand again. What was I doing wrong? What was I supposed to be doing? I did not understand what it wanted, why it was hurting me…

A strange sound – half gasp, half cry – caught my attention, and I turned to see Jessa drop the scope in the grass and back away in a half-crouch, clawing at her faceplate.

"Jessa?" I asked, concerned.

Her reply was little more than a terrified rasp. "We're dead."

The cyborg girl's terror was quick to infect all of us. We had never seen Jessa frightened before. Nervous, yes; upset, yes. But to see her shrink back in fear was an unfamiliar sight, one that did more to unsettle me than the unfamiliar threat or the ring's warning.

"Why?" asked Fett. "What are they?"

"Yuuzhan Vong," she moaned, crouching lower. "We're dead."

"Yuuzhan Vong?" repeated Nightwind. "What are those?"

"Biotech-using aliens from beyond the Outer Rim," she whispered. "We're dead."

"What do you mean?" demanded Ash. "Why are you so sure that we're dead? What threat do these creatures pose to us?"

"They're psycho masochists," Jessa replied in a tight whisper. "They hate technology. They think anyone who resorts to machinery practices blasphemy." She was now barely visible over the tips of the knee-deep grass. "We're dead."

"Stop saying that!" ordered Luke. "What kind of talk is that? We're not dead yet!"

Her head rose slightly above the grass to glare at Luke. "You don't get it, do you? These aren't your run-of-the-mill aliens. They're immune to the Force, that armor's resistant to lightsabers, blasters don't hurt them, at least that I know of…" She shuddered and sank beneath the grass again. "We're all dead. They'll see us as infidels for using technology… and they'll probably go after the cyborgs among us first."

At last I understood her fear. As a cyborg, she would be viewed as an abomination by these technology-hating beings. And they would probably strike at her first… though I would definitely be the next target…

Something shifted inside me, something hot and bright and at once alien and strangely familiar. The power of the dragon stirred restlessly, anxiously awaiting its chance…

No! Unconsciously I slammed up a block in my mind, imprisoning the dragon before it could emerge. I would not allow the power to be unleashed again, for it brought only destruction, bloodshed, the dark side…

The blot on the horizon separated into individual shapes. Fifty… no a hundred… almost a thousand of the Vong were approaching us, silent, sinister. An army of Force-impervious aliens against the seven of us was not good odds at all. And if Jessa was to be believed, there would be no negotiating with these creatures – they would want only to kill us.

The ring stabbed so hard I would have gasped had I possessed control of my lungs. In response the dragon thrust at the barrier I had erected, seeking to break through. I struggled to hold it back, cursing my ill luck all the while. I needed all my resources to face the Vong, not contain an unmanageable power. Why this, why now…

The creatures were now close enough that their guttural shout was clearly audible. The ring translated their obscene language perfectly, chillingly. They demanded our surrender… or our death.

"Well?" asked Ash.

"Our choices are immediate death… or delayed death," I replied.

"I don't know about the rest of you," snarled Fett, drawing a blaster, "but I'm not going down without a fight."

"You're nuts, Fett," Jessa hissed, crouching even lower.

They were hardly twenty meters away now. Despite Jessa's declaration that lightsabers were ineffective against their armor, I drew my weapon. If nothing else, it would serve as a valuable defense. And if blasters and lightsabers could not pierce their armor… there were alternatives. Fett had an arsenal at his disposal, Ash had the power of fire, Nightwind could possibly overcome a sizeable number of them…

My entire arm spasmed as the ring blasted power up my arm, nearly making me drop my weapon.

_I'm trying! _I screamed in my mind. _What more do you want?_

A Vong threw his arm forward, and a disc-shaped projectile embedded itself into the metal of the downed gunship, missing Tuck by mere centimeters. Before our eyes it unfolded jointed legs, jerked itself out of the plating, and flew back to its owner.

"Okay, that's just sick," remarked Luke.

"Razorbugs," Jessa noted, still in hiding.

"Crush the razorbug next time," Fett advised. "Then he won't be able to repeat the trick."

"Will they give us a next time?" asked Tuck, drawing his blaster.

Ash flickered red-gold, and the Vong who had thrown the razorbug erupted into red-gold flames. If the warrior gave a death cry, the roar of the flames drowned it out. Its comrades backed away, muttering amongst themselves, then gazed at the phoenix with apprehension.

"Ash, how many of them can you destroy at a time?" I asked. If she could burn enough of them, perhaps they would decide we weren't worth the trouble…

"One, perhaps two," she replied in an exhausted tone. "That armor's flame-resistant, so it takes a great deal of power to ignite it…"

A low, snarling bellow from what I assumed was the commanding officer, and the Vong force drew weapons – razorbugs, wicked staffs, and long whiplike weapons that resembled snakes… no, they _were _snakes. The front ranks charged us, their corpselike faces all the more hideous from their rage.

Jessa screamed, an unholy sound that seemed to shatter what hope we had against these creatures.

The ring stabbed violently, urging me to some action. Blindly I swung at an approaching Vong, feeling the blade connect with organic material but not penetrating, foul smoke rising from the shell-armor…

The Vong gave a mocking, growling laugh, and plunged a carved blade into the deltoid muscle of my chest.

I staggered and fell to my knees, clutching the hilt of the knife and attempting to pull it out, blood spilling down my armor and spattering the grass. Fire invaded my senses, the burning agony of the wound… and a deeper, darker, more destructive fire in my soul…

The ring screamed. It had never done that before. It was a heartrending, unearthly sound, like the death of a star. It hung in the air, at once terrible and beautiful, waking something within me…

No! Not the dragon! It could not emerge, it could not… I would not resort to the dark side again…

The dragon in my heart battered against its bonds. I tasted fire in my mouth, ashy and metallic and sweet… I felt the stretch of muscle between my shoulders as if I had sprouted wings… my fingers flexed involuntarily like talons… the fire built in power, raging, straining to break free…

Ash was the first to fall, struck down by a terrible blow from a whip. Fett and Tuck were cornered against the side of the downed gunship, continuing to fire uselessly at the oncoming Vong. Luke dueled viciously with two of the warriors, while Nightwind snapped and lunged at the aliens, who wisely kept just beyond striking distance even as they encircled him. Jessa's screams continued to rip the air as blows rained down on her. They were dying, they were as good as dead, they could not hope to survive…

Again the ring screamed, answered by a hiss from the dragon. And still I struggled, not wanting to add the dragon's destructive power to the fray, not wanting to risk injury to my friends from that unpredictable force…

This time it was Luke who screamed. He collapsed, his left leg gashed open to the bone, more slashes streaking his face, a Vong standing over him and raising his staff to finish him off…

And at the sight of my son's blood, my son's peril, my control snapped.

The power of the dragon awakened with a roar in my veins, a flash of fire across my eyes, a blinding light in every fiber of my being. It split the heavens, raw, elemental, animal. It seared through my blood and filled me until the vessel of my body could contain it no longer and it spilled from my mouth, from the tear ducts of my eyes, the pores of my skin. My very bones vibrated with the energy I now commanded, a power now mine to direct.

The Vong preparing to deal the deathblow to my son burst into flame. Not the red-gold flame of the phoenix, but white-hot metallic flames that nothing could quench. The warrior died instantly. The rest of the Vong backed away, staring and muttering, as I climbed back to me feet, as if I were rising from the dead.

Later the others would tell me exactly how I appeared in their eyes, and a frightening picture it was. The air around me shimmered with some unspeakable force, as if I were a god. Blood glistened on my armor. My breath was no longer the hissing sigh of my respirator, but a feral snarl. And my eyes… they glowed, even through the mask, with a weird blue light. It was as if I were human no longer, but something far more.

At last a foolhardy Vong struck, flinging a razorbug my way. One flick of the power crushed the projectile in midair. I swiveled my head to glare at the warrior, almost as if to say "Is that all you've got?"

The commander bellowed again, and the dozen or so soldiers of the front ranks converged on me. I raised my weapon, letting the power suffuse it until it seemed to crackle with energy, and rammed it through the chest of the commander. The Vong leader convulsed once, then collapsed. His death did nothing to deter his subordinates.

The rest is a blur of gold and red and blue, of screams and roars and snaps and blows, of fire and blood and energy. I moved as effortlessly as a dancer among them. Their weapons could not touch me but seemed to bounce and slide off a diamond-hard barrier that encased me as surely as their suddenly superfluous shell-armor. The power burned them, cut them, crushed them in their own armor, turned their living weapons against them, entangled them in each other's blows. And still they came, still they fought, as if preferring suicide to surrender.

The last soldier of the first charge fell dead, still smoking. The remainder of the army hesitated, shocked that so many of their warriors could be bested by one man. I had time…

My attention returned to my wound. The hilt of the knife still jutted from my flesh, but the pain was now almost unnoticeable, the injury a minor inconvenience. I pulled the blade free, almost threw it aside, then for reasons unknown decided against it and slid it into my belt. It was a simple matter to meld the power of the dragon with that of the ring and close the wound. I had lost a lot of blood, but the strength of the dragon would overcome that weakness for now.

Fett, Tuck, and Nightwind, who had all somehow managed to escape injury in the fray, shrank back from me as I approached them. I did not understand why at the time, though I do now. They had seen me become something alien and terrifying, and they did not know whether I retained my sanity or not, if I would turn on them or help them.

Luke was my first objective, and I pressed my palm over the gash on his thigh, fusing the torn tissues together. I touched his slashed face, and it healed without a scar. He could only stare, as if he were seeing the ring's power for the first time.

Ash lay thrashing in the grass, gravely wounded. I laid my hand over her breast, and at once her broken bones knit and the shredded skin and muscles closed. Her tremors of pain ceased, and she struggled to her feet. I then turned to Jessa, who lay moaning in the grass, her plating and wiring in shreds. Again I laid my hands on her, and again the ring and the dragon merged to make her whole. Her terrified cries abated, and she gazed at me with awe.

"Rise," I ordered them, but not with my own voice, but a commanding and thunderous tone.

They obeyed.

The remainder of the Vong lost their fear at that moment, and they charged in a seething wave.

"Follow me," I commanded, and I thrust my newfound power forward. A wave of energy slammed into the front ranks and smashed a path through the Vong forces. I charged forward, through the ranks, the others close at my heels. Again and again the Vong attacked, attempting to close us in and finish us, and again and again their efforts were met with fire and death. I had become a force of nature, a demigod.

_If you were ever to unleash the full potential of the power of the dragon, the mightiest army would tremble in fear._

The Shadow's prophetic words had been fulfilled. I had unleashed my powers to their fullest capacity… and the terrible threat of the Vong was no match for them.

A blot of rainbow burst from the grass, and the Vong forces fell back, wary of this newest threat. They made no move to pursue us as we followed the Ky-Lin on his erratic path.

"Good show, Anakin!" he called over his shoulder. "They won't follow you, I think you frightened them off…"

As if his words were an incantation to break a spell, the power of the dragon receded and died the moment he finished speaking. Overwhelming weakness flooded me, and I collapsed.

The Shadow's voice penetrated the blackness before consciousness fully fled me: "So he finally got it through his thick helmet, didn't he? I was worried there… Get him inside quickly, or we won't be able to save him."


	25. Interlude and Answers

**Chapter XXIV – Interlude and Answers**

_Rage. Pain. Despair._

_I was still on fire, every square centimeter of my flesh. It hurt to move, even to breathe. Every breath was like inhaling acid, searing my lungs. There was no pain in my arms or legs, but that was no mercy. The horrible sensation of nothingness where those limbs should have been was worse than the pain._

"_Lord Vader."_

_The voice penetrated the confining helmet, warped hopelessly but coherent enough to understand. I wanted to scream that no, that wasn't my name, but it hurt too badly to take in enough breath to reply. I wanted to reach up and tear away this mask, to free myself from this hideous prison, but my arms were restrained, as were my legs…_

"_Can you hear me?"_

_I forced my blistered eyelids open. The image before my eyes was distorted, weirdly tinted… holographic, I realized with a shudder. Had every sense been dulled by the inferno?_

_I struggled to breathe in, to gather adequate breath for an answer._

"_Yes, master." Stars, was that my voice? I sounded like something out of Hell. Perhaps it was a mercy that talking was difficult for me…_

_But I could not remain silent. There was something I had to know…_

"_Where is Padme?" Every word was torture to my scorched lips and charred lungs. "Is she safe? Is she all right?"_

_Silence, leaden and cold. That alone should have told me that all was not well… but his words were still a cruel blow._

"_It seems, in your anger… you killed her."_

_Killed… killed my Padme… killed the woman I love… no, it couldn't be… how could I have done such a thing… it was impossible… it was IMPOSSIBLE…_

"_I… I couldn't have… She was alive! I felt it!"_

_Rage. Pain. Despair. The three companions that were joined forever to me that terrible day. I felt them swamp me the moment I learned the terrible truth – that I had sold my soul for naught, that I had lost the only one I ever cared for… no, not just lost, but destroyed with my own hands! They encircled me, knew my mind and heart, and they laughed hysterically at my anguish._

_I could not strike them, could not crush them, could not wound them, so my fury turned elsewhere. Blood showered my armor and the durasteel floor as the transfusion device crumpled beneath my blow. Droids shattered. Tables shuddered. The very air roared. Something within me cried out for release, for blood, for justice…_

_I staggered forward, awkward on my prosthetic legs, new agony shooting into the stumps as they took my weight. I welcomed it, a distraction from the far greater pain. With all my heart I wished that I had died on Mustafar and not suffered this pain…_

_I knew, at that moment, that Anakin Skywalker was dead. I had killed him with Padme. Only Darth Vader remained, only this broken husk of a man beholden to a sadistic tyrant. I was the slave of the Sith, bound to his side by my own hand, and I could only scream in agony._

_Rage. Pain. Despair. My masters, my chains, my tormentors from this moment onward._

_Something died within me that terrible day, something that never came back to life._

_Break…_

I awoke from my nightmare, sweat stinging my eyes, my spine a cold pillar of fear. It was only a dream, only a dream… the Emperor was dead, he could hurt me no more…

The chill touch of a medical table met my back, and for a terrifying moment I wondered if I had awakened from one nightmare into another. But this was not the dark, bleak chamber in the Emperor's palace, but a softly lit, strangely comforting room with gray walls and little in the way of machinery. My mask was gone, and in its place a respiration tube snaked down my throat – the sole piece of modern medical equipment I was able to see. There was a faint, pleasant smell in the air that counteracted the medicinal stench of the respirator, something I could not quite place but seemed familiar anyhow. My limbs felt heavy, almost paralyzed…

But something was very alive in my chest, coiled tightly beneath my ribs and waiting, waiting…

I closed my eyes, the flood of memory only serving to further weary me. What had I done?

Voices drifted into the room from the next chamber – Luke, who sounded anxious, and the Shadow's youthful, slightly hoarse voice attempting to calm him.

"I don't see why I can't go see him!" Luke insisted.

"He must have time to recover," the Shadow replied. "One cannot expect to fight off an entire Yuuzhan Vong task force and come away unscathed."

"You're a sorceress! Why can't you heal him?"

"Because the healing arts are not my strong point. I can close small wounds and cure minor illnesses, perhaps knit a broken bone or dispel the effects of a concussion, but not much beyond that. It vexed my master to no end…" A soft chuckle. "But don't worry. He will be fine. He has always been a fighter."

Luke hesitated before going on. "What happened to him anyhow?"

"When the Vong stabbed him, the blade nicked a major artery. When your father continued to fight the creatures, it got his heart going faster, which in turn pumped more blood out of the wound, and eventually the loss overcame…"

"Not that." He spoke in a tone a frightened child might use. "I meant… well… the other thing…"

Great. Just great. He thought I was a monster. I destroyed the Vong and saved his life, but in the process forever lost him. The power of the dragon proved to be a double-edged blade once again.

"Your father's dragon blood came into play," she replied. "When he saw you in danger, he drew on that legacy and its power to aid you. While the Force could not touch the Yuuzhan Vong, the dragon magic could. While the ring could not repair Jessa's droid body or entirely heal the horrible wounds you and Ash suffered, the combined powers of the unicorn ring and the dragon blood could. It is a great power, terrible to face in a foe… but wonderful to have on your side."

Silence. I dreaded Luke's reply.

"Shadow… will that ever happen to me?"

"No. It will not. Your mother was human. And while your father's father is dragon, your father's mother is also human. You have enough dragon blood in your veins to grant you greater sensitivity to the Force, but not enough to give you access to the dragon magic."

Was that a sigh of relief from my son, or had I imagined it? "When he wakes up… what will happen?"

"Many things. Would you be more specific?"

"Well… now that he's used the dragon power… will it have changed him at all?"

"Now there's an interesting question. We'll have to wait and see…"

Their voices drifted away, leaving me with much to think about. First and foremost on my mind was great relief that, whatever havoc the power of the dragon chose to wreak upon me, my son would be spared. Second was fear – fear of facing the others again. They had seen me become a monster. Would they accept me among them again? Had my actions dissolved the fellowship permanently?

The circle was complete. Just like that terrible night over twenty years ago, I had awakened in a medical chamber, still afire with a great power, realizing that I could never go back. Everything had changed then… and everything had changed again now. Just as the young Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker had irrevocably become the Sith Apprentice Lord Darth Vader then, now Lord Darth Vader had become, once and for all, the Son of the Dragon.

But there were differences, it seemed. Then I had felt the deepest anguish, the fullest realization of the Hell I had subjected myself to. Now… now I did not know what to feel. There was little pain aside from the fear that I had alienated my son. Indeed, the Rage, Pain, and Despair of then were absent now.

Hooves moved upon the floor, and the mysterious smell – incense? – grew stronger.

"Good heavens, you're awake already?" The Ky-Lin's garishly colored face was a blur before my eyes. "I thought I had given you enough to put an army to sleep! This won't do, you need your rest, your body needs it to create more blood, especially after you wore yourself out throwing around huge amounts of power yesterday…"

Something stung the wet tissues of my mouth and throat, as if the respiration tube had become contaminated with sand…

When I next awakened, it was to discover my mask once again fitted over my face. I attempted to sit up and found that, while I was still fairly weak, at least a portion of my strength had returned. While it would be awhile before I could endure great physical activity, at least I could stand and walk…

"Good morning, Anakin!"

"You devious beast," I retorted, glaring at the doorway where the Ky-Lin stood. "You slipped something into the respirator…"

"Sleepy Dust," he replied cheerily. "Ky-Lins are adept at producing the stuff. It's powerful and should only be used sparingly, of course… But I digress. Now that you're on your feet, will you accompany me?"

What else could I do? The Ky-Lin and I walked, side by side, out of the chamber, across the living area of the Shadow's home, and into the arboretum.

The other six members of the company awaited us, sprawled out in various stages of repose, almost as if we had never left here, almost as if we had not just spent months on a convoluted sojourn throughout the galaxy but had been here the entire time. Ash was drowsing on a low tree branch, head beneath one wing, and Jessa lay stretched out on a limb of the same tree like a reclining panther, one arm hanging lazily down and the other pillowing her head. Tuck sat with his back to the tree trunk and his knees pulled up to his chest, stripping bark from a stick with methodical care. Fett and Luke had unconsciously assumed identical poses on the ground – lying full-length upon their backs in the grass with their arms folded beneath their heads, the only difference being that Luke appeared to be awake while Fett snored raucously. Nightwind lay with his legs tucked beneath his body, panting gently. No one said anything or looked at me strangely, as I had expected…

"Yo, Darth," Jessa announced, raising her head slightly.

I tensed involuntarily. "What is it?"

"Settle a bet for us, will ya?"

"What sort of bet?" I replied cautiously.

"Was Emperor Palpatine Darth Sidious?"

The relief was almost painful in its intensity. "Yes. Darth Sidious used the name of Palpatine to take the galaxy."

"Told you," Jessa sighed, laying her head back down.

"But it doesn't make sense," complained Tuck, tossing his peeled stick aside. "Palpatine was fighting against the Sith. How could he be one if he was fighting alongside the Jedi? And here's another question – if Palpatine was a Sith, how could the Jedi not have known…"

"Why d'you think the Jedi tried to do Palps in right before the Purges?" Jessa shot back. "Don't mess with me on this one, pal, this argument was fought plenty of times on my homeworld before the third movie came out…"

Luke rolled his eyes. "They've been at this all morning, Father. I thought you coming in and answering the question would end it…"

"I can only state facts," I replied. "I cannot change their mindsets against their wills."

Luke smiled. "I'm glad you're up and about, Father. You had us all worried."

I did not know what to say next.

"Come now, Anakin," the Ky-Lin urged. "The Shadow awaits you."

Luke nodded. "Go on, Father. We can talk later."

There was no fear in his face or voice, no disgust. I had not lost him after all.

The Ky-Lin led me deeper into the gardens, he leaping from stone to log to bare earth to avoid trampling the grass, I opting for a straight course. All the while I mentally reviewed what I wanted to discuss with the Shadow. Why had she never divulged her own past to us, why had she not found out what had happened to my mother when she had the means…

Abruptly the Ky-Lin halted. "You are to meet her here." And with that, he vanished down a side path.

I stepped into the clearing, an area roughly the size of a conference chamber and ringed with stately trees, the floor layered in moss and short dense grass. Almost like an arena, I thought at once, though why that similarity sprang so quickly to my mind I could only guess.

"Son of the dragon."

The Shadow stepped noiselessly from the trees. The robes of our last meeting were absent – instead, she wore a gray tunic, loose trousers, and metallic silver boots and gloves, all similar to the dueling garb of the Jedi Knights of the old Order. Her face remained veiled, and the chain belt still encircled her waist, though now in addition to the daggers a sword hung at her hip. Every move, every step, was executed with great care, like a stalking beast, and her eyes…

Before, they had seemed to be the eyes of a wild animal. Now, the animal was about to pounce.

In a flash of gray, a dagger seemed to jump from her waist and into her hand. She held the weapon point-first and hurled it in my direction. The second dagger followed, an instant behind.

This time there was no binding the power, no holding it back. It sprang to life, coursing through my veins like my lifeblood. The slightest pulse of power shattered the blades in midair, scattering fragments of steel upon the ground.

The Shadow drew her sword, the blade's edge singing against the sheath. "Draw thy weapon, son of the dragon, and do battle."

I ignited my saber, the blue blade thrumming with power – not just the energy of the power cell, but with the strength that flowed down my arms and into the weapon.

The Shadow lunged, and our blades screamed as they slammed into each other, fountaining blue and silver sparks in a brilliant nova. With a snarl of exertion she struck again, and again I blocked the slash. Over and over sword and lightsaber met, tangled, ground into each other, flashed and spun in complex maneuvers like a carefully choreographed dance. The dragon within roared with each successfully blocked blow, hissed with each strike of my own that was countered. The eyes of the Shadow burned into my own, alive as never before with the thrill of battle.

At last, I brought my weapon up to block a strike, but so much force was behind both blades that I nearly lost my grip on my saber. The Shadow was not so lucky – the sword's blade snapped in two, and the broken section of blade spun wildly through the air and slashed her arm open before jabbing into the ground point-first and sticking there.

The Shadow dropped the useless hilt. "Enough, young one." The wildness in her eyes dimmed. "Enough."

With great effort I reined in the power, stuffing it back where it belonged. It went reluctantly, and I wondered how many times I could use the power before it escaped my control entirely.

"Well done," she praised. "Well done indeed. You have learned to harness your father's birthright as well as your mother's." She bent down and retrieved the broken pieces of her weapon. "Though it cost me my best sword… lightsaber-resistant metal is growing scarcer by the century, you know…"

"You're wounded," I told her. "Let me heal your injury."

"I'm not entirely helpless," she retorted, placing the hand of her good arm over the bloodstained sleeve. "I can manage small wounds like this." She closed her eyes, murmured something in a strange tongue, and pulled her hand away to reveal a newly healed scar.

"The ring would have left no scar," I pointed out.

"Sometimes we need scars," she replied. "To remind us of our follies – or, in this case, as mementos of battles well fought."

I realized my saber was still active, and I withdrew the blade and clipped it to my belt again. "There is much I need to discuss with you, Shadow."

"Indeed there is," she replied, folding her arms before her chest. "First of all…"

"Wait a minute," I cut in. "Before you speak, there is something I must know…"

"First of all…" she began again, as if I had never spoken.

"Shadow, hear me out!"

"Don't interrupt her again," the Ky-Lin advised amusedly, emerging from his hiding place behind a chakroot bush. "She'll repeat herself all day and drive you bonkers."

I kept silent, though part of me resented not being able to voice my issues…

"First of all," the Shadow went on, "I did not tell you my father was the man responsible for your father's exile and, possibly, your mother's death because it was none of your business. I have already had words with the Ky-Lin regarding his loose lips." She glowered at the creature, who laid his ears back but otherwise did not move. "My ancestry is not important, nor does it make me as selfish and conniving as my father. You, of all people, should know not to judge a person by the sins of their father."

I flinched. Sharp words, but true.

"Second, I did not scry the fate of your mother because, frankly, it was none of my business, not any more than the identity of my father is your business. I don't make it my business to pry into the lives of others any more than I have to. The only reason I read Summer-Talitha's journal was as a safeguard, in the event that the record was destroyed and you had to learn of your heritage by word of mouth. Anything beyond that, I figured, you could learn for yourself, from your own research."

Again, true. Not that it made me happy…

"And finally – and most importantly – the power of the dragon is NOT connected to the dark side of the Force. The Force and the dragon magic are two distinct, separate powers. And while the dragon magic can make it easier to touch the Force, or while the two powers can work side by side in an individual, using the dragon power does NOT make you a dark-side wielder in any way."

"Then why, in the past, was I only able to touch the dragon power when I was in the throes of the dark side?" I countered.

"Because there is something about the dragon power that links it quite closely to emotion. The Jedi, unfortunately, all but wiped the concept of emotion from their Order, and had you been inducted into the Order as a baby, like most Jedi, you would never have had the opportunity to touch the power of the dragon. You would not have known love, or grief, or anger, or fear… and the dragon power would have lain dormant for a long time, perhaps until your death.

"But unlike most of the Jedi, you were familiar with such feelings, and when the Jedi tried unsuccessfully to stifle these emotions in you, it only made them all the more potent when they finally burst to the surface. Contrary to the Jedi's beliefs, it is not emotion that is evil – it is letting it grow too strong to control, or finding an inappropriate outlet for it. And when you drew on the dark side, a power accessed through anger and fear, you drew on the power of the dragon at the same time, albeit inadvertently."

Her strange pale eyes met mine. "But when you overthrew the Emperor, when you faced down the Vong, you acted not out of hatred or anger or fear, but out of love for your son. The dark side cannot tolerate the presence of love. In that case, the power of the dragon acted alone." Her eyes rested on my hand, and the corners of her eyes wrinkled as if she were smiling. "With a little prodding from the ring, of course." Once again she locked eyes with me. "Now, there was something you wanted to say?"

I shook my head. "You already answered my questions."

"I thought so." She extended a hand. "Walk with me a ways?"

"Do I have a choice?"

She laughed, a sound like water over stones in a stream. "You always have a choice, son of the dragon. Of course, the privilege of choice comes with the responsibility of facing the consequences."

"And what consequences will I face if I choose not to go with you?"

She shrugged. "You never know until you choose."

I shook my head, this time from exasperation, and followed her. She was a strange creature, albeit one to whom I owed my life – and so much more.

I had never realized just how large these gardens were until now. Our entire stroll must have taken an hour or longer, and in all that time I doubt we got halfway across the great transparisteel greenhouse. I wondered why she kept such a facility, if it served a practical purpose or if it was merely for pleasure.

"How did you get to Vaal?" I asked. "And how did you know exactly when we would finish our quest?"

"I am wherever I am needed," she replied cryptically. "Remember, my two strong powers are of Scrying… and of Space-Manipulation."

"You demonstrated Scrying. What exactly is Space-Manipulation?"

"Exactly as the name implies, it is the art of altering space to suit your needs. A distance of many light years can be compressed to a step, or an object on one world can be transported to a world on the other side of the galaxy with little or no effort. That is how I was able to come to Corellia when your party first needed me… and how I was able to get to Vaal, the end of your journey, and await your arrival. I didn't quite expect you to practically pass out on my doorstep from loss of blood, of course…"

"Was our entire journey really necessary? It seems to me like we spent months on end simply running around the galaxy…"

"'Just running around the galaxy,' he calls it," she murmured. "Ah, young one, it was every bit as necessary as your first journey to find me. It drew the seven of you together, it helped you grow and learn, and it encouraged you to work together and act as a whole. Did you notice that, by the end of the journey, you had no need to translate Nightwind's speech for the others? Did you notice that, by the time you reached Vaal, the seven of you were one, as my old friend Logray said?"

"But Jessa nearly left us…"

"She was tempted, yes, but in the end she remained with you. That is all that matters."

"We were very nearly killed several times. Any one of us could have perished before we returned to you…"

"As long as you were bound by the ring, none of you could have died. It watched over you and kept you safe." She laughed again. "If you must still be convinced of the worth of your travels, simply look at what you accomplished. You saved two young lovers and overthrew a tyrannical governor on Kruvex, you destroyed a vicious monster on Tatooine, you rediscovered a priceless monument and defeated a pack of griffons on Mandalore, you routed the Imperials on Wayland, you spared an Ewok village from the savagery of the taozin, you softened the heart of a powerful warlord… and you quite probably saved the galaxy."

That last came as a shock. "What?"

"The Yuuzhan Vong were poised to invade the galaxy, simply waiting for the civil war to weaken the Republic or Empire sufficiently for an invasion to succeed. The battalion you faced on Vaal was a scout team, sent to observe the state of affairs and ascertain whether or not the time was right for attack. One of their weaknesses, however, is that they are deeply religious, and tend to see their gods' hands in everything. And when you slaughtered their best warriors and overthrew the battalion single-handedly, they took it as a sign from their war god, a sign to let this galaxy alone."

I could only stare at her. I had known the Vong to be brutal foes, but a threat to the entire galaxy…

"Jessa can tell you more of that than I," she went on. "She is familiar with their culture."

"My stars…"

"No one can say you have not repaid your crimes now, young one. Not when your actions spared trillions from a bloody death." She shook her head disdainfully. "Not that they will ever know that, of course. Or would even care if they did know. Mortals are so surprisingly negative."

"Do you blame us?" I replied. "Our lives are filled with pain and misery, and all we have to look forward to for our troubles is death – perhaps Heaven or Hell if we happen to be religious. You, on the other hand, are immortal…"

"And still subject to the pain and misery of mortals," she countered. "And unlike mortals, we haven't the relief of death on the horizon – unless we choose to end our lives by our own hands, an option even most mortals loathe. Immortality does not necessarily mean we are free from the troubles of the galaxy. On the contrary, we can look forward to a greater measure of them than mortals can comprehend."

Silence as we continued walking. Somewhere I heard Nightwind's barking roar, Luke's laughter, Jessa's voice engaged in song once again, subtle reminders that we were not alone here.

"Why do you wear a mask?" I asked at last.

She gazed at me. "Why do YOU wear a mask?"

I froze, not expecting this.

"Don't worry about answering yet," she replied. "After all, you asked me first." She brushed the fabric over her mouth with her fingertips. "I was born on Jessa's homeworld, in what is called the Middle East, and there it is the custom for women to cover their heads and, in some areas, their faces. Though I ran away at a young age to join the sorcerers, I still keep that custom."

"Why? You are a sorceress, no longer part of that world…"

"Simply because I have chosen the path of magic does not mean I must forget my beginnings," she replied, gazing at me thoughtfully. "Nor are you required to forget your past as Anakin Skywalker, or even as Darth Vader, simply because your life has changed."

I nodded, conceding that point.

"Now," she continued, "answer my question. Why do you wear a mask?"

I closed my eyes. "When I fought my Jedi Master… I was seriously wounded. I lost my remaining organic limbs… and when I slid into the lava, I caught fire. The flames burned me beyond repair. My lungs received the brunt of the damage." I reached up and touched the air intake vent of my mask. "The Emperor installed the mask. It has kept me alive all these years, many times quite against my will. I can never remove it."

She stared at my mask a long time, eyes inexplicably sorrowful. Then she lowered her head to regard the ground at her feet. "Yet another strand in the web of lies the Sith used to ensnare you. The treacherous pig, how could I have ever struck a bargain…"

"You mean I never needed the mask?"

"In the beginning, you most certainly did. You were in such hideous shape that, were it not for the mask and armor, you would have died a cruel death. But the human body, while it has its shortcomings, is incredibly resilient. And lung tissue is known for its regenerative properties. Given time and the right therapies, you could have been free of the armor within a few years, mask and all."

Stunned, I placed both hands against my helmet. Was she saying that I had worn this horrible parody of a face for nothing all this time?

"But don't even think of removing it now," she ordered, as if reading my mind. "The machines have done all the work for your body for years now. The muscles that were meant to work your lungs have atrophied. Scar tissue has built around the mechanical workings. You are truly dependant on the mask and armor to survive now. The Emperor meant to keep you enslaved – your soul to his whims, your body to his technology. He intended to keep his dragon tethered as closely as possible, even if it meant settling for a crippled servant."

I lowered my hands. I should have felt anger at this, hatred toward Palpatine for betraying me yet again. But the fury would not come. It was as if the portion of my heart devoted to hatred had burned itself out. I had no anger to spare for a dead man.

"Will I ever be whole, Shadow?"

She paused, choosing her words carefully. "Over the past months you have learned the limits of the ring's powers. You should know by now that its power is insufficient to entirely heal you. The power of the dragon is less familiar to you, but I will tell you now that it, too, is not enough." Her eyes met mine, seeming almost to glow as she imparted her wisdom. "If you wish to be made whole, son of the dragon, it will take a power greater than mine… and it will mean making a promise you cannot renege."

I could only wonder at the meaning of that, as she was not forthcoming with any more information.

"What happens now?" I asked.

"You and your friends have learned much on this journey. But I sense you are in need of a little more wisdom before you can find your places in the galaxy."

"Another quest?"

"Don't sound so miserable, young one. No, not a quest per se. Just a little… growing experience."

_Break…_

I found out what the Shadow meant by "growing experience" the next day, when she gathered the seven of us – eight with the Ky-Lin – in yet another clearing in the gardens, this one strewn with lichen-crusted boulders. She gestured for us to seat ourselves, though she remained standing before us like a priestess about to deliver a sermon to her adherents. At her feet, arranged in a semicircle, were the artifacts we had gathered on our quests – Tyra's emerald, the Great Red's claw, the mythosaur axe, the homemade medal, the winged headdress, the crystal brooch, and the Vong knife.

"And so your adventures have come to an end for now," she noted. "You have all grown since we last met, learned much and loved much. And yet… I sense you have lost your way."

"What do you mean?" demanded Fett.

"Well, now that you have returned to me, do you still want your desires granted? Do you still have your futures planned out?"

"Yes… wait, no… maybe…" Jessa stammered.

"I had thought… but…" Luke said unsurely.

"My way is clear," Ash replied. "Unless…"

Nightwind's plaintive howl nearly ruptured our eardrums even as it echoed all our thoughts. "I don't know anymore!"

The Shadow gave a sharp nod. "Just as I thought."

"You knew this would happen, didn't you?" asked Tuck. His voice was not accusatory in the least, simply questioning.

She did not answer him but took a step back and raised her arms in an all-encompassing gesture. "I think that, before you can go any farther into your future, every one of you needs some sort of closure to your past." She brought her hands before her, fingertips steepled. "I need total silence for this spell…"

The air trembled with energy. Everything danced and shimmered before my eyes, and I had to close them or risk illness at the sight. The ground vibrated beneath me. Around me, the others shifted uncomfortably but made no sound.

At last the unsettling powers ceased movement, and I dared open my eyes again.

"Nothing happened," said Nightwind, sounding disappointed.

"Wrong, Nightwind," the Shadow replied, lowering her hands to her sides. "Space-Manipulation. I could not send you to where you needed to go – we hadn't the time, and besides, some of the places you needed to go were not accessible by normal means. So I brought some of those places closer."

"What do you mean?" asked Luke.

She gestured to a gap between two xekkwood trees directly across the meadow from her. "Ash and Luke, your path lies in that direction. You will find a diversion in the Force there, one that will allow you contact with certain… immortals. That includes a couple of Jedi whom I suspect Luke will want to have words with, hmm?"

Luke gave her a bewildered look.

"Well, go on," she urged. "Return when you feel you have learned what you need to."

Wordlessly Luke rose, and Ash flapped up to perch on his shoulder. Together, they departed from view.

"Nightwind and Jessa, there." The Shadow pointed to her left, where a stream meandered from view. "Those you call family await you."

The two of them stared apprehensively in the direction the sorceress indicated. Then Jessa squared back her shoulder joints, Nightwind held his head high, and they followed the creek deeper into the trees.

"Fett and Tuck, take that path." She gestured to her right, over a scrabble of boulders and through some thick scrub. "To the city you both called home once."

The two men rose and, without a word, climbed the rocks and were gone.

"Son of the dragon." She faced me now, eyes solemn. "Your path is perhaps the hardest of all."

"Which way?" I asked.

"Up the Blue Mountain." She stepped aside, and a path I had not noticed until now was revealed to my view. "The Ky-Lin will guide you as far as he is able."

I gazed into the distance. Where I should have seen the transparisteel wall of the arboretum, the grim silhouette of a slate mountain was visible.

"What is up there?" I asked, though I had a feeling I already knew the answer.

"The Master of Many Treasures," she replied. "Your father, Jasper."


	26. Dragon of the Blue Mountain

_AUTHOR'S NOTE: If you're interested in seeing an illustration that goes with this chapter, see the March 17 post to my _Me, Myself, and Vader _blog (link available on my profile) and scroll down a little. Click on the image to enlarge. Keep in mind that I am not a professional artist (though I do enjoy a little cartooning…)._

**Chapter XXV – Dragon of the Blue Mountain**

I do not know how long it took to ascend the Blue Mountain. Fifteen minutes, an hour, several hours, days… the passage of time was erased from my memory. The trail was long and arduous, but I hardly noticed it. It was as if my body was working on autopilot, climbing over boulders, picking out old trails, sidestepping cracks and weak areas, all without the aid of my mind. The upcoming meeting with Jasper commanded my thoughts.

All my life I had been led to believe I had no father. The Jedi had automatically assumed that the midichlorians had some role in my conception, but then, they had used the Force to describe everything away, never accepting such concepts as coincidence, luck, and unexplained miracles. I wondered if my mother had wondered about my birth…

No. Not my mother. Shmi was not my mother… but yet she was… she had raised me, she had taught me love and sacrifice… but she had not given birth to me… Talitha had carried me…

It was all very confusing – two mothers and an inhuman beast of magic for a father. I hoped speaking with Jasper could clear a few things up.

The Ky-Lin led the way, his hooves striking a sure path up the mountain. He rambled most of the time, though I recall little of what he said. It seemed he existed only to fill the silence.

Well, if he was going to talk, perhaps I should ensure his speech served a purpose…

"Ky-Lin, according to my mother's journals, you journeyed with her for a time. What was she like? What do you know of her?"

He cocked his head. "Well now, let me think…" He mulled over the question awhile. "Always a spunky sort. Adventurous, headstrong, a take-charge type of woman… not unlike yourself, Anakin. Very beautiful, too, your son has her eyes…"

Which meant I had inherited her eyes as well. Just as well – if either of us had inherited dragon's eyes, it most certainly would have raised some questions regarding our lineage…

"Did you ever see her again after… after the Dragon Council turned on her?"

The Ky-Lin shook his head, the multi-colored ruff glittering as it caught the sunlight. "There was no sign of her. Only Dickon, the Shadow's father, and Growch remained."

"Growch?"

"She had taken her dog to the cavern, hoping he would be a part of the life she and Jasper planned to build. I took him away and did my best to heal him, but he only lasted a few more months."

"How could she just vanish like that? Unless the fires consumed her…"

"Dragons have fantastic powers, Anakin," the Ky-Lin reminded me. "It would have been within Jasper's power to spirit her away if she survived. Dragons are masters of fire, of gemstones, of battle, and of flight. They can traverse vast distances with the speed and ease of starships – even the void between planets is no barrier to them. Their knowledge of plants and fungi is second only to those sorcerers who choose to study Botany. They can blur the eyes of mortals to avoid detection. They can create a gold-like substance for their monetary needs, though the material gradually disappears over the course of a few weeks – a form of robbery, of course, but when you have no recourse, it can be forgiven…"

"You almost make them sound like gods."

"Gods they are not. Their lives are lengthy, but they are still mortal. And they are still given to folly and error."

The path ended abruptly at a jagged ledge – and a gaping maw leading into the heart of the mountain. The ring burned, sensing the presence of Jasper, and the power of the dragon stirred expectantly.

"This is where we part company," the Ky-Lin said gravely. "I can go no further."

"You aren't afraid of getting eaten, are you?" I asked, only half-joking.

"It's not a matter of that, though I daresay that any dragon who attempts to devour a Ky-Lin is in for a catastrophic case of indigestion," he replied. "It's a matter of compatibility. Yin and Yang, if you will."

"I don't understand."

"Like the Force. Its light and dark sides – they are two halves of a whole. They need each other, for without the contrast of one, the other would be rendered entirely powerless. Yet they don't mix. Likewise, the powers of dragon and Ky-Lin, though they are part of a greater magic, are so separate that they cannot be combined. Like two identical poles of a magnet being pressed together, our presences naturally repel each other."

"I notice you have no problem being around me…"

"That is because you are half-human. And your humanity serves to suppress your dragon power. Remember, when you called forth your dragon power yesterday to duel the Shadow, I could not be present. And the day you faced the Vong, your dragon power retreated the moment I happened upon the scene." He nodded toward the cavern. "Jasper has the ability to take on man-form, something no other dragon has… but while he is in dragon form, as he is now, I dare not approach him."

So I would go in alone. Now was the time… and yet I hesitated. I was suddenly afraid. My own dragon powers were frightening enough. How much more terrible would the powers of Jasper, a being whose blood was undiluted by human ancestry, be when unleashed?

"Go in," the Ky-Lin ordered. "You'll be just fine."

At long last I forced my legs to move. The blackness of the cavern swallowed me, engulfing my senses, seeming to pour into me and infiltrate my muscles and cyborg components. My movements became sluggish, as if I were walking through thick mud. I could see nothing, hear nothing, feel nothing…

The ring flared to life, glowing gold like a torch and illuminating a cavern the size of an Imperial shuttle hangar. The blackness dispelled, my hesitation vanished, and I strode forward. Evidently the power of the unicorn had no such qualms about the presence of a dragon as the Ky-Lin did.

Bachelorhood had not suited Jasper well at all, it seemed. The cavern was blanketed in dust so thick it resembled grayish snow. The crushed, dry bones of former meals covered the floor, crunching sickeningly as I walked over them – they were so numerous it was impossible to take a step without treading on them. Great gouge marks from wicked claws streaked the floor and walls, and even through my mask I detected a decidedly rank odor, a combination of old blood, must, vermin, and a sour-smoke-musk smell that must have been dragon. If this was where my father lived, I could not imagine this was where he slept…

An ominous rumble filled the cavern.

I told myself not to panic – it could only be Jasper. If I explained the reasons behind my presence, he would have no reason to attack. Slowly I turned around.

The growl issued forth again from a heap of what I had first taken to be faded-black beast hides in the corner of the cavern. I raised my ring-bearing hand and stepped closer for a better look. What I had thought to be nothing more than ragged, filthy skins were, in actuality, the folded wings and age-dulled scales of an elderly dragon. His head was hidden away beneath one wing and his claws tucked beneath his body, which only heightened his similarity to a pile of trash waiting to be discarded.

No. There had to be a mistake. This could not be the proud dragon that had wooed a human woman, traversed a continent, defied the Council of Dragons by taking on a lover. This could not be my father. This was a decrepit beast, half-dead from old age…

The beast stirred restlessly, and he grated something out in his sleep.

"Nooooo…. Hnngh… Tal… Talitha." A fearsomely taloned paw emerged from beneath his belly and grabbed at the stone floor, carving out deep furrows in the solid rock. "No… no… my little love… grrrrnnnnnn…"

The nightmare abated, and he relaxed into deep sleep again.

So this WAS Jasper! But what in the galaxy had happened to him?

"Jasper," I murmured, hoping to wake him gently. "Master of Many Treasures, wake up."

A muscle twitched in his shoulder, but he was otherwise still.

"Jasper, wake up!" I ordered. "Jasper!"

No reaction. The ring pulsed with some urgency. How much longer did I have here with him? I did not consider that for long – all the time in the world would be useless if he slept through it.

"Jasper!" And I delivered a sharp kick to the ribs.

Why is it that you never consider just how stupid an action is until it is too late to stop yourself? That was exactly what crossed my mind the moment my foot touched dragon flesh. And the question presented itself again when I found myself sprawled face-up on the cave floor, a terrible set of claws pinning me to the spot. What happened in between those two events is somewhat unclear, though I do remember a great deal of noise and some spits of flame.

The claws on my chest flexed warningly, and a fearsome head as long as I was tall hovered a scant meter over me. Golden eyes, slit-pupiled like a snake's, burned with the fire of a magic creature as well as with indignant anger at being so rudely awakened. Lips curled back over stained yellow fangs as long as knives, and gleaming horns crowned his brow. He filled my entire frame of vision, wings spread, tail lashing, scales gleaming, and I wondered how I could have ever thought this creature decrepit and ugly.

"Fool," he snarled. "Fool human. All humans are fools, but your idiocy surpasses anything I have ever seen in my life. Do you have a death wish? Don't you know what I can do to you? Do you not fear me? Have you no respect for a dragon?"

It took me a moment to collect myself enough to reply. "I am Anakin Skywalker. You… you are my father, Master of Many Treasures."

The dragon stared, eyes blank for a moment. Then he gaped his jaws and belted out a barking, roaring laugh. "You call yourself my son! What a riot! A human, son of a dragon!"

"I am your son!" I insisted. "Talitha was my mother!"

"Talitha gave birth to an egg," he hissed. "Humans do not come from eggs. Only a dragon can come from a dragon's egg." The claws tightened dangerously, threatening to pierce my armor. "You dare mock me further, human?"

I had one last chance to convince him. I lifted my left hand before his eyes.

"I wear her ring. Please, Jasper, believe me."

Jasper stared long and hard at the ring. His tongue, yellow and forked, flickered from his jaws and swiped across my hand like a whip. A spark of understanding filled his eyes, and the pressure on my chest eased as he withdrew his paw.

"Anakin?" he repeated, cocking his head. "Son of the dragon?"

I stood slowly, never taking my eyes from him. Awake, he was an incredible sight to behold, a solid mass of muscle and scales. The hide that had appeared to be faded and dull before now glistened with metallic luster, as black as my own armor. Great curved horns swept back from his brow, and a ridge of smaller horns ran down his spine, from between his eyes to the spade-tip of his tail. Hard ridges protected his reptilian golden eyes, and he held his sinuous neck in a regal S as he regarded me. The great wings folded along his sides like slackened sails, and the pale scars and ragged edges of the membranes were the only sign of his advanced age.

"Father," I murmured, no longer reluctant to give him that title.

"Son," he growled.

I rested a careful hand against his muzzle. "You are more than I expected."

"Indeed." He no longer snarled, but his voice still carried an unavoidable rough undertone. "Forgive me my bluntness, but you are somewhat less than I expected."

I choked back a laugh. "Believe me, I am much less than I ever wanted to be."

"Really." He settled down on his belly again, folding his clawed limbs before him. "I am sure there is a story behind all this. After all, I doubt you came here unaided."

Many times before I had told various edited versions of my story to those who asked of it, but this time I left nothing out. I related everything to Jasper – the Shadow's terrible bargain with Lord Sidious, my upbringing as the bastard son of a slave woman, my induction and training in the ways of the Jedi, my betrayal of the Jedi and being betrayed in turn by Sidious as he laid his claim on me, the arrival of my son and my subsequent release from the Dark Lord's bondage, the journey to the Shadow's abode, our binding quests… everything. Jasper listened with interest, nodding a few times when I spoke of the Shadow but otherwise silent and unmoving.

"And then you came here," he noted once I had finished. "After everything that has happened to you, you chose to seek out your father."

"I need answers, Jasper," I told him. "I want to know what happened to my mother."

He curled his lip amusedly. "From what you told me, she died at the hands of Tusken Raiders. And don't tell me she isn't your mother. She cared for you. She is more than deserving of the title of mother. More than I am worthy to call myself your father."

To hear Jasper reaffirm what the Shadow had said so long ago must have been the deciding factor, for I no longer questioned whether Shmi was, indeed, my mother.

"Son of the dragon, I am sorry you have led a difficult life," he said regretfully. "Believe me, it pains me to know that you went through so much torment. Many times over the last few centuries I had thought to seek my child out for myself, but every time I told myself it would be a useless gesture. Surely, I thought, the egg has been destroyed by now, or the Dragon Council found it again and raised the hatchling as their own. I see now that I should have taken my own advice. Maybe, under my wing, you could have grown as you should have – as a dragon."

"How could you have known what I would go through? This isn't your fault…"

"I bear responsibility," he interrupted. "After the Dragon Council turned on your birth-mother and I, I went into hiding for a time. I believed they would forgive and forget. I was wrong." He lowered his elegant head in shame. "I was expelled from the Council and told to never return to the Blue Mountain. I wandered for decades in my human form, seeking some sort of solace, but I never found it. I returned to the Blue Mountain, to the lair of the Council, but by then they had perished, down to the last dragon."

His golden eyes met mine solemnly. "You and I, Anakin, are the last of our great race. The last of the dragons of old."

"The Shadow told me there were others…"

"If you call a few dozen feral whelps with no teaching of the dragon ways a continuation of the race," he snorted disdainfully. "Yes, there are others, the spawn of other dragons exiled by the Dragon Council, but they know nothing of their heritage." A thoughtful pause. "Perhaps, as the last of the old ones, I could have taught them, and you as well… but I chose instead to hide myself, to hole up in this mountain and sorrow over my past mistakes and losses. I have lived a mockery of a life here… and I will die here, very soon. I am old, Anakin, older than I look. And after the fires of my expulsion, I am far weaker than the average dragon. Fire has never been kind to our bloodline."

"No," I agreed, remembering Mustafar. "It has not."

He was silent a long time, as motionless as a stone carving. Every so often his forked tongue would dart from his mouth, the sole movement during his repose. I waited, unsure what to say next.

"What will you do now?"

"Excuse me?"

"I asked what will you do now?" Jasper regarded me expectantly.

"I… I don't know. I have nowhere to go. I have committed too many crimes in this galaxy to be welcome anywhere." A thought occurred to me. "Perhaps I can remain here with you…"

"Trapped in your human-and-machine body as you are? You won't last a week. These mountains are unforgiving." His eye-ridges drew together in a thoughtful scowl. "You are correct, there are few feasible options for you now. You could always stay with that Shadow woman, I suppose, she'd be more than grateful for the company…"

"I will not burden her further," I replied. "She has done so much for me already."

"You could go with your son – or any of the others. They care for you, more so than you can know."

"I will not endanger them either. I am a political criminal now. If they are found to be harboring me, they could be tried for treason."

"Hmm. There is another option…" His voice trailed off.

"What is it?"

"Your dragon heritage." Was that a smile on that fearsome muzzle? "If you elect to accept it, you can accomplish great things. You can gather the lost ones, the children of other exiles, and restore the dragons as a great power in the galaxy. You can build the Council anew."

I had not even considered this.

"If you make that decision, there can be no turning back," he warned. "The power needed for such a transformation is immense, and the spell would be irrevocable. Dragon you would be, for the rest of your life."

I nodded slowly. It was an option, however incredible, and I would consider it.

"Until you make your decision, what will you do?" he asked.

"Go back to the others, I suppose," I answered. "Help them find what they seek."

He nodded. "Wise choice. Very wise."

"Father… about Talitha. How did she die?"

"The Shadow did not tell you this?"

"No. She said it was for me to find out."

"Ah. The Shadow is an intelligent woman, more so than her fool of a father." He got to his feet, wincing and moaning as he did so. "These old bones aren't what they used to be."

"You do not look very old."

"No dragon looks his age… unless you happen upon him while he sleeps. That's why dragon slayers of old liked to attack a dragon while he slept – because the magic that protected him rested along with his body. A cowardly way to do it, in my opinion…" He pawed through the dry bones in a corner. "It's here somewhere… ah!"

He turned back to me, cupping something in one paw. It was a leather bag, beginning to disintegrate with age. I took it carefully from him.

"What is this?"

"A package I put together in the event I ever did find you," he replied. "It contains letters from your mother… and a gift from your father. Use them wisely."

I closed my hands around the precious bundle. "Thank you… father."

He nodded solemnly. "I only wish there were more I could do for you, my son. I am rather inexperienced at this father business."

"I know the feeling."

Suddenly he flinched, his entire body trembling with pain. "Go."

"What is it?"

"My time is fast approaching. You should not have to see it."

He was dying! I stepped forward, ring-hand at the ready…

"No, Anakin! Save your strength. You will need it." Abruptly his expression became serene. "The ring can only prolong the inevitable now… and I would rather welcome it. It will mean seeing Talitha again…"

"Father…"

"Go!" he snarled. "Go, my son. I love you."

"And I you, Father. I only wish I had met you sooner."

"We will meet again, son. Rest assured of that fact."

My heart aching, my eyes burning, I turned my back on Jasper and stepped out of the cavern.

The Ky-Lin did not say a word when I encountered him a short way down the trail, only nodded once and waited silently. I had no desire to leave yet, to resume the journey, so I seated myself and opened the packet Jasper had given me. The leather crumbled to pieces in my fingers, releasing two yellowed, faded letters and five flawless gemstones, each the size of a man's eye.

"In the old days, a dragon could not call himself a Master Dragon unless he possessed five perfect gemstones," the Ky-Lin explained. "Ruby, emerald, diamond, sapphire, and pearl. Your father has granted you a precious gift indeed."

I set the stones aside and opened the first letter, my first communication ever with my birth mother.

_Dear young one,_

_It feels so strange writing this to you when you haven't even been born yet. I don't even know whether to call you son or daughter yet. But your dear father, Jasper, says you won't hatch for at least a century, if not longer, which means I will never see you. This saddens me, but it can't be helped._

_I wanted to impart a few words of wisdom to you, but I don't know what to say. So many of my own journeys and adventures have relied more on luck and the wisdom of others than on my own teachings. And besides, you'll probably hear plenty of wisdom from the Dragon Council and don't need the silly, sentimental ramblings of a human woman._

_There is one thing I can give you, however, and that is my love. You were created in love, young one, and tended to as an infant egg in love. Love has saved my life – and Jasper's – many times, and has kept me going when all seemed hopeless. It is the most powerful force there is, more so than any magic. And though I will never be able to put my arms around you or kiss you, I hope you still feel my love protecting you. _

_My deepest love,_

_Talitha_

I folded the letter and stared at it for the longest time. Talitha, too, had given me a gift, one just as valuable, if not more so, than Jasper's gemstones. And yet… my question remained unanswered. Perhaps the second…

The second letter was written in a shaky hand, the ink smeared in places by tears. It only took reading the opening sentence to see why.

_I am dying._

_It is All Hallow's Eve. Winds tear the island. I hear my sweet Jasper's voice assure me that the herbs should be working and all will be well, but I know better._

_I never fully recovered from the burns I suffered fifteen years ago, when Jasper and I escaped the wrath of the Dragon Council. Dickon… how could he have done this… I thought he had accepted that I would never want him, that I already had a beloved… how could I have known he would steal the egg… how could I have known the dragons would think I was in it with him…_

_I fear for the egg. What if it hatches in human hands? Will the hatchling survive? Will the Council rescue it, or will it become another circus freak, as Jasper was when I first found him?_

_Oh little one, wherever you are, be strong. Be strong for me. I wasn't strong enough to save you… but be strong enough to save yourself… _

_I love you, Jasper… I love you, dragon child…_

The last sentence was an unintelligible scrawl that wandered off the page. The rest of the letter blurred before my eyes as they filled with emotion. Never mind that Talitha had died years and years ago. I had still lost my mother that moment.

A terrible bellow split the air the moment I finished reading, and both the Ky-Lin and I whirled to stare at the mouth of the cavern.

Flashes of fire… an explosion of light and sound… smoke and ash billowing from the entrance…

I ignored the Ky-Lin's shouts of warning and ran back. This was my father, I had to do something. I had already lost my mother and birth-mother. I could not lose my father…

By the time I reached the cavern, it was too late. All that remained of the Master of Many Treasures was a pile of still-smoking bones, already bleached and dry as if they had lain there for years.

I stared at the remains of my father for what felt like hours, my heart afire, the Ky-Lin at my side. First Talitha, then Shmi, then Jasper…

I had been orphaned all over again.

"Come," the Ky-Lin said at last. "We can do nothing more here. And the Shadow will be expecting us."


	27. Flight of the Phoenix

**Chapter XXVI – Flight of the Phoenix**

The journey down the mountain and back to the gardens of the Shadow's home was a silent, somber one. The Ky-Lin kept a respectful peace, though his eyes wandered my way frequently, full of deepest sympathy. I refrained from making eye contact with him. I wanted no pity, no apologies. I just wanted this to end – the tearing, burning pain of loss that had become such a constant in my life, ever since leaving my mother and life behind at a tender age…

Some may say that you cannot miss that which you have never known, but they are fools. Despite not knowing of Jasper or Talitha's existence for years, their loss cut me as deeply as the loss of Shmi and Padme. At least I had my memories of my mother and beloved to cling to. Of Jasper I only had an all-too-short final meeting, and Talitha… I had nothing to know my birth-mother by. Nothing. I would never meet her, never know her, never have a chance to thank her for the enormous sacrifices she had made on behalf of my father and myself.

"We're here," the Ky-Lin murmured gently.

I looked up. We were back where we had started, the boulder-strewn meadow with the four paths branching away. There was no sign of the others.

Silently we continued on, not speaking. I wondered if I could have saved my father had I ignored his order to not use the ring. Probably not, for though the ring was powerful, it had its limits. Preventing death was most certainly beyond that limit…

Muffled weeping reached my ears. I followed that sound to another clearing, one bisected by a fallen tree. The Shadow sat upon the dead trunk, holding Jessa as the cyborg girl gave vent to her feelings. Her entire metallic body shook violently with the force of her sobs.

"What happened?" I asked.

"Go, son of the dragon," the Shadow ordered, though not without kindness. "Jessa has been through an ordeal. She needs time to recover." She nodded forward. "The acklay is about fifty meters in that direction. You may join him there. In fact, I think all of us will gather there once everyone has returned."

I left them alone and walked on. But I could not help but wonder just what Jessa had experienced to leave her so shaken.

Nightwind lay beside a deep pond, gazing dreamily into its depths, occasionally snapping playfully at the surface as if to catch a fish. Upon seeing us enter, he lifted his head and gave me a penetrating stare.

"You're sad," he said at last.

"How can you tell?" I asked. "My mask hides my emotions."

"Your thoughts are sad," he replied. "And so is your smell. Everything gives off feeling-smells. Humans just don't understand them."

I did not debate that point. "My father is dead. And I watched him die."

He barked in surprise. "Great bones! No wonder you're sad."

I leaned against the great beast's shoulder, finally allowing the tears to escape. No more… no more… I could not take this anymore… how much more could be ripped from me? What more would sadistic fate take from me before it was satisfied?

Nighwind's muzzle pressed sympathetically against me. "My father's dead too. And my mother. Killed by hunters. Brothers and sisters dead too. Very sorry."

Strangely, I took some comfort from the acklay's declaration. The knowledge that everything, even those considered mere animals, knew the pain of loss seemed to reassure me I was not alone in my suffering.

It was some time before the others straggled in, all in various stages of shock. Fett limped in shortly after my arrival and sat down heavily at the shore of the pond, as silent as a statue. Tuck and Luke arrived together, whispering something I did not quite catch before seating themselves beside me. Jessa's entry was as silent as Fett's, though she made no move to join us but instead hung at the clearing's edge as if reluctant to call herself part of us.

It was dusk by the time Ash and the Shadow finally arrived, the phoenix circling the meadow once before alighting on a tree branch. The Shadow seated herself in the grass cross-legged, folding her hands neatly in her lap as she regarded us.

"Gather around, Seven Who Are One," she commanded. "Let us enjoy a final evening together."

"Final evening?" Luke repeated.

She nodded. "You didn't honestly think this could last forever, did you?"

No one answered. I could not speak for the others, but on some level I indeed wished the fellowship would not dissolve. A portion of me wanted nothing more than to traverse the galaxy with my comrades, my bizarre but closely-knit family, embarking on adventures and exchanging good-natured jibes and laughter…

"This is the last night you will spend here," the Shadow went on. "You will depart in the morning. Beyond the windy plains that mark my territory you will find a spaceport. That will lead you to your destinies."

"Don't wanna go," whimpered Nightwind. "Want to stay with my friends."

She laughed kindly. "Oh little one, I know you love your friends. But you have a place in the galaxy. You all do." Her eyes took us all in before resting on me. "You do realize, son of the dragon, that almost a year has passed since you found that ring?"

"A year?" When the stang did I lose track of the time?

"Two weeks shy of a year," she added. "And in that time you – and everyone else here – has grown considerably. You have not reached the end of your potential, of course, for nothing stops growing, no matter how old. But I judge each of you mature enough to progress to the next great stages of your lives."

No one spoke. The knowledge that our journey was coming to an end was sobering. I supposed we had all taken our time together for granted, thinking the moment would never end and tomorrow would never come. To know we would soon go our separate ways…

"It's getting dark, isn't it?" the Shadow said at last. "Let's have a little light in here, shall we?"

Ash shone red-gold, and a blaze flared to life in the center of the circle we had formed, throwing amber light upon our faces and gleaming on metal and armor, staining the Shadow's clothing gold.

"This reminds me of my church's youth camp every summer back home," Jessa noted, edging closer. "We'd always have a big campfire on the last night, and everyone would sing songs and share stories."

"Care to lead us in a song?" asked Luke.

"Hell, no, I don't want to hear THIS group singing 'Kumbiya!'" she replied quickly.

I laughed despite myself. It was good to hear Jessa returning to her old self.

"But sharing stories is just what I had in mind," the Shadow replied. "Who would like to go first?"

Nightwind gave an affirmitive yelp. "I will."

She nodded at the acklay. "Then tell us about your meeting with your family."

He stared into the fire, a comically thoughtful expression on his muzzle. "Not real family. Not mother and father and nest-mates. But acklays, lots of them all over. Wrestled and played. Chased animals and ate. Sunned ourselves. Shared stories. They thought I'd had some weird adventures." He closed his jet-black eyes. "Wanted me to join them."

The Shadow nodded. "Did you want to?"

"Kind of." He opened his eyes again and faced the Shadow. "But I've been raised around humans. Don't know much about wild. If I stayed, could I survive?"

The Shadow's eyebrows arched. "Could you?"

He drew his head back, surprised. Then he shifted his bulk a bit to get comfortable and resumed his study of the flames.

"Jessa, why don't you go next?" the Shadow suggested. "You and Nightwind went together, after all."

"We split up shortly afterward," Jessa replied, staring at her clawed droid hands. "But yeah, I guess I could go next." She hesitated, then pushed on. "After Nightwind chased after his family, I kept walking. I walked awhile… and I realized the path was becoming familiar. I realized… I realized I was back home. On Earth. In my hometown. And the first thing I did, of course, was track down my old house."

She looked up at us, a sad laugh coming from her faceplate. "I have a little sister now. Just turned three. Iolana, they named her – 'to soar like an eagle.' They always liked the odd names…" Her voice became fainter, more distant. "They tore down the high school I used to go to. It's a Wal-Mart now. The new high school is ugly as sin… and they ripped out the old cafe and put in a dry cleaner. Everything's changed, it seems."

"Things do change," the Shadow acknowledged. "It's inevitable."

"They buried me next to Harley," she went on, oblivious to the sorceress' remark. "Someone left old action figures at our graves, too. Must have known I didn't like flowers…"

"What did your family say when they saw you again?" asked Luke. "They must have been shocked…"

"I didn't show myself to them," she replied. "Spied through windows, that's it. I couldn't do that to them. They've already buried me. They think I'm dead, as dead as Harley. It took years, but I think Mom's finally gotten over Harley being dead. They've moved on." She seemed to shrink into herself, hugging herself as if suddenly cold. "But I haven't moved on. Just like Vader said on Grievous' ship. I've kept myself from going on, because I always thought I'd go back home and things would be the same as they were. I couldn't show myself to my family again, because things WON'T be the same. They've grown. They're over it. Me coming back into their lives – and as a droid freak, to boot – would just hurt them all over again."

The silence was dark and heavy as the Shadow considered Jessa's words. Then, without another word on the subject, she turned to Luke. "Who did you meet, young Jedi, and what transpired?"

He smiled sadly. "Yoda. Obi-wan. And a man who says he knew my father long ago… a man named Qui-Gon Jinn."

I smiled at the mention of Qui-Gon. Ah, my old friend, my first mentor, the being I had idolized as the ideal Jedi – compassionate, wise, thoughtful, gentle, giving…

"Obi-wan and Yoda admitted that they had omitted certain points of the Code in my teachings, including that 'no emotion' precept. Yoda said he had left it out because my training had to be extremely condensed, and he could only teach me what was most important. But Obi-wan had a different explanation – that the Codes forbidding attachment are what drove my father to the dark side, and they couldn't risk losing me, even if it meant leaving those Codes out of my teachings."

"And Qui-Gon?" asked the Shadow. "Did he have anything to say on the matter?"

"He didn't say much," Luke replied, looking up to meet my gaze. "Only to tell you, Father, that he never lost his faith in you, even in your darkest moments… and that if you and I were allowed our mistakes, then perhaps we should allow the Order their mistakes."

I snorted a laugh. "I'm sure that went over well with Yoda," I noted sarcastically.

"Believe it or not, it did," Luke replied. "He told me that the Jedi have come to realize that not all of the blame for their fall can be laid on the Sith. The Order was not perfect. Nothing is. But we shouldn't hate the Order for their mistakes, but learn from them."

The Shadow laughed. "Nice to hear Master Yoda unbend himself enough to admit there were problems with the Order." She turned to Ash. "Next?"

"I don't know how you did it, Shadow," Ash said wonderingly, "but I arrived at my destination in time to be part of a meeting of the magic beasts."

"Oh?" she replied. "That hasn't happened in a few centuries. Do go on. What was being discussed?"

Ash shifted from one foot to the other, then back again. "Creatures of magic are becoming few and far between in this galaxy of ours," she said gravely. "Many of the magicians and sorcerors were slain in the Purges, mistaken for Jedi. The dragons are all but extinct. Few of the unicorns dare to leave their haunts. Of the Ky-Lins, only one remains in this plane of existence. A mere handful of my fellow phoenixes remain. The elves, the centaurs, the dwarves, the harpies, the beasts of land and sea and sky… all grow scarcer by the century. Only the griffons are still abundant, and their numbers dwindle with every passing year."

The Shadow's eyes darkened. "If even griffons are dying out, the state of affairs is sad indeed."

Ash nodded. "Yes. Magic cannot die. The galaxy needs magic, more so than it knows." She fell silent, thoughtful.

"Thank you," the Shadow told the phoenix. "Tuck or Fett, who wants to go next?"

Tuck raised his hand. "As we walked, our pathway went from stone to metal. The next thing I knew, we were on Kamino, at Tipoca City. That's where our paths parted."

"Tell us of your path."

"The city was in chaos. Apparently the Empire had ordered every last clone soldier, even those that normally would have been held back for reconditioning, to be shipped out for a last stand against the Alliance. With all the hue and cry going up, no one noticed me wandering around."

"Did you acquire anything in your wanderings?"

"Yes." He rested his chin on his clasped hands. "I went there seeking answers, and I usually find what I'm looking for. What I found… was relief. Relief that I would not suffer the fate of my brothers. Relief that I would not be thrust onto the battlefield to be butchered just to satisfy the pride of a few pompous officers." He sighed. "Funny."

"What's funny?"

"I had hated my gift because it made me different from my brothers. But on Kamino… I guess I finally realized that being different from the other troopers may have made me an exile, but it also saved my life." He sighed. "I only wish I could have saved more of my brothers."

The Shadow gave him a sympathetic look, then her gaze moved to Fett.

"No one paid me any notice on Kamino," Fett said quietly, still as a corpse. "No one so much as demanded an ID card as I hacked into my father's quarters." He gave a dry chuckle. "Can you believe his belongings were still in there? They never even cleaned our apartment out. The memories were so thick on the walls…" He paused.

"Is that all?" the Shadow asked.

"Some of it I do not wish to repeat," he said sharply.

"Then share what you feel comfortable sharing," she replied.

After a long pause, he went on. "I read his journals. His Mandalorian journals." Pause. "You know, you think you know the ones you love… but they can prove to be the most complete strangers of all. There was a side to my father I never knew – his devotion to the Mandalorian Order. He considered those men his family… and he had vowed to bring the Order back, with me as his first protégé, after Dooku had taken power. It never happened."

The Shadow nodded. "Thank you, Fett. I know this is difficult for you." She turned to face me. "Young one."

My hand moved to my belt, where I had hidden Jasper's gemstones and Talitha's letters in a concealed pouch. "I met my father, Jasper."

"And?" she pressed.

I closed my eyes, an unsuccessful effort to hold back the pain. "He is dead now. Old age claimed him shortly after I left him."

"I'm sorry," she told me, voice suffused with emotion. "Did he answer your question?"

"My mother sickened and died on All Hallow's Eve, fifteen years after the Dragon Council attempted to destroy her and my father."

The Shadow's eyes lit up. "All Hallow's Eve. A night of powerful magic… and a night of infamy in your family."

"How so?" I asked.

"It was on an All Hallow's Eve that your mother became an orphan and began her journey… an All Hallow's Eve when your father claimed his dragon birthright and you were conceived… an All Hallow's Eve when my father's foolish greed and pride betrayed your parents… All Hallow's Eve when the Emperor and I gave you your human body and laid you in Shmi's arms… and All Hallow's Eve when you first discovered the ring."

Tuck whistled. "Freaky."

"So technically Vader was born on All Hallow's Eve?" asked Jessa. "Somehow that doesn't surprise me."

If I had expected the Shadow to deliver a farewell speech or explain what we should have learned from our entire ordeal, we were sorely mistaken. She merely gazed into the flames, her eyes dancing from time to time as if the crackling fire were whispering secrets to her in a language only she could decipher.

"Shadow… about finding our destinies," Tuck said at last. "How will we know when we have found what we are looking for?"

"You will know," she replied softly. "Trust me. You will know…"

_Break…_

I awoke with a jolt. My eyes raked the clearing, the slumbering forms about the dying fire, the surrounding trees. Something was amiss, I could sense it… but why was the ring so quiet? If the Force discerned it, surely the ring would give some sort of indication… Again I studied the bodies about the smoking ashes. All were present as far as I could tell. Nightwind's bulk was impossible to miss, and the others… Jessa was curled up between the acklay's forelegs, I could see Luke, there was Tuck, Fett and the Shadow…

Ash was missing. And with a cold sick feeling in my gut I knew why the ring had not alerted me to her departure. She was no longer part of us. It was as if she had cut herself free of the ties that bound us all.

Out of the corner of my eye I caught a flash of red-green-gold… the Ky-Lin's plumed tail. I stumbled over Fett's body in my haste to follow him, but he did not wake. Did the Ky-Lin have a hoof in this?

I kept going, straining my eyes to catch the flash of the Ky-Lin's rainbowed hide or the beat of a feathered wing. Branches caught at my cloak, undergrowth tangled my feet, stones seemed to thrust themselves into my path. But I would not be stayed. Nothing could stop me from finding out what Ash was planning to do.

Abruptly I broke into a clearing, this one in the farthest corner of the greenhouse. The Ky-Lin stood as solemnly as a bodyguard, watching Ash as she worked.

I thought my heart would stop. Ash must have been working all night to construct this – a pyre of dead branches, each stick and limb carefully arranged to her liking. Even as I watched she clambered over the affair, tugging on a branch here with her beak, twisting a limb there with her talons, occasionally snipping off the end of a stick she deemed too long or too crooked.

"Ash…"

She looked up. "I had hoped to spare you of this. Your past experience with fire has been… unpleasant."

"I thought you had planned to forego this."

"I had." Her fierce amber gaze met mine. "But I learned something in my journeyings with you and the others, as well as with the meeting of magic beasts. I have learned that I have a duty – a duty to my kind, a duty to this galaxy, and a duty to magic itself. I am needed still. For how long, I do not know… but I will stay as long as I am needed." She cocked her head amusedly. "Besides, I discovered many new things during our adventures. And for an immortal who once thought she had seen it all, that is something."

I could not tear my gaze from the pyre. "Will it hurt?"

She hunched her shoulders in a shrug. "I don't know. I never can remember if the rebirth is painful. But rest assured that, no matter what happens, I will emerge from the flames unscathed."

I did not know what to say. Ash had been our guide for much of the journey, first leading us to the Shadow, then lending her experience and considerable knowledge to our quests. I looked up to her as I had once looked up to Qui-Gon and Obi-wan, as a mentor and almost a parental figure. She had been a constant voice of reason, a trusted confidant… a true friend in every respect.

Ash took wing, landing on my outstretched arm. She gazed into my eyes as if seeking something. Then she pecked the side of my mask affectionately.

"I have faith, Anakin, that our paths will cross again. And I greatly look forward to seeing what you become in the time we are apart."

"Farewell, Ash," I told her. "May the Force be with you."

She launched herself from my arm and landed atop the pyre. She spread her wings and held her head high, like an image on a royal crest. The woven sticks at her feet smoked ominously, then burst into flame, angry white-gold flames that snarled hungrily as they devoured the pyre, then reached purposefully for Ash…

I had to turn away. I could not watch…

"It's all right, Anakin!" the Ky-Lin shouted. "It's all right! Look!"

"Father, look!" It was Luke, grasping my arm and shaking. "Look at Ash!"

I forced my eyes back to the pyre, half-expecting to see the phoenix blackened and burned. Instead, I beheld a vision as she was restored before my gaze. The flames seemed to shape her as they stroked and cradled her, taking away the layers of fat and crooked joints old age had given her. Wherever the fires touched her shimmered with the colors of the rainbow until she shone like a multicolored nova.

The others had somehow followed me here, and they exclaimed their surprise and awe as Ash, young and beautiful once again, beat her blindingly magnificent wings and rose from the flaming pyre in a shower of rainbow sparks. A single feather was shaken loose by her exertions, falling by my feet, and I stooped to pick it up. A handspan long, it gleamed as if forged from metal and glistened with color, blue at the base that faded to green, then gold, then orange, and finally a brilliant ruby at the tip.

"Remember me!" Ash cried, and with a shattering crash she had punched through the roof and was gone.

We stared at the gaping rift in the ceiling for a long time, long after the shards of broken transparisteel had stopped falling and the pyre had died out.

The Shadow threw back her head and laughed. "Now that, my friends, was a phoenix in her glory!"


	28. Red and Black

**Chapter XXVII – Red and Black**

The Shadow rejected our offers to help her repair the shattered ceiling of the arboretum, stating that she preferred to fix it herself.

"An area where a phoenix renews itself is a blessed one," she told us. "I am honored that she would select my humble abode to undergo the burning. This spot is sacred now, and I shall treat it accordingly."

"You're going to put a plaque here, aren't you?" I said teasingly. "Something like 'Ash the Phoenix Set Herself On Fire Here.'"

She laughed. "Something like that. The magicians of old would dedicate a shrine over the pyre's ashes, but I think a sign or a memorial tree will be sufficient."

While the others packed our supplies and loaded them upon Nightwind's back, the Shadow and I stood before Ash's rebirthing ground. The pyre had been reduced to black char and silver-and-white ashes, sprinkled with glittering shards of transparisteel from the broken panes overhead. Sunlight streamed through the rift and onto the spot where our friend had departed, seeming to set it afire again. I felt an odd sort of peace here, as if this were a room in the old Jedi Temple.

"She did not say goodbye," I said wistfully. "Not to the others."

"Immortals are accustomed to loss," the Shadow replied. "Thus, they often forget the niceties of what mortals deem as proper farewells." Her silver eyes wandered over the ash pile. "Besides, she loved your party in her own way. She may have been doing you a kindness by performing the renewal out of your sight. Watching someone you love burn is a traumatic experience."

"You sound as if you know that from experience."

She closed her eyes as if in pain. "I have loved… and lost. That is all I will say." She opened one silver-gloved hand. "She forgot this."

In her palm rested the emerald Tyra had given us in return for saving her and her beloved. It caught the sunlight and seemed to burst into green flame. As that had been Ash's quest, it rightfully belonged to her… but she was gone now.

"What will you do with it?" I asked.

"I think," the Shadow mused, "that it is only fitting that this be part of her memorial." She bent down before the ashes of the pyre, scooped out a hole in the cinders and soil, and placed the emerald within it. Smoothing the soil and ash over the gemstone, she placed both palms flat over the spot. I watched, intrigued. What was she going to do?

A single green tendril emerged from the ground – not the new green of a young plant, but a rich, deep, jeweled green, transparent and afire with light. Even as I watched the gem-plant grew before my eyes, thrusting forth leaves and branches, not slowing in its growth until it reached a height level with my waist. Only then did the Shadow withdraw her hands and step back.

"Not expert," she complained. "An expert in the magic of Botany could have created a real tree from a gemstone. I can only manage this." She gestured to the emerald tree, which shimmered and flamed in the sunlight. "But perhaps it is good enough for the phoenix?"

"It is beautiful. Ash would be honored."

The Shadow turned to face me. "It is time for us to part ways, son of the dragon. It is time to seek your destiny."

"You knew all along that our desires would change along the route, didn't you?" I asked, not accusingly.

"I suspected," she replied. "But how could I tell you? You can tell a child repeatedly not to touch a hot stove, but the lesson will not sink in completely until the child tests the boundaries and lays a hand on the stove. There are times when experience is the best teacher, even if it is painful."

"I will miss you," I told her. "You have saved my life many times. And without your guidance, I would never have discovered my past."

"Or your inheritance," she added, her eyes soft as she smiled beneath her veil. "I did what was necessary to pay my father's debt. I regret that my efforts to help you caused you further pain, but I hope that, someday, you find what you seek."

I did not wish to leave. The Shadow was not a member of our fellowship, but she was part of me all the same. In a way, she was as much a member of my family as Jasper. Never mind that her desire to help me was to repay a debt – I still owed her much.

"You are like a younger brother to me," she said softly, tears filling her eyes. "I have watched you grow, rise, fall, and find redemption. I have seen and felt your pain and glory. I have considered you my responsibility… and a member of my family. If I ever had a brother, I would imagine he would be something like you."

"And if I ever had a sister, I think she would be much like you," I replied.

She took me into her arms and embraced me. "Immortals are usually accustomed to loss… but I am young. Forgive me, but your leaving pains me."

"I will find you again," I vowed. "Someday, we will meet again. I feel it."

"Our paths will cross again, young one," she agreed. "You are a creature of magic, like myself, like the Ky-Lin, like Ash. You are one of us. You always have a place with us."

Someone – perhaps Luke – called out for me. They were ready to go. But I was not…

"Go to them," she urged. "The Ky-Lin will lead you to the edge of my territory. Goodbye, son of the dragon."

"May the Force be with you," I wished her.

"And may magic watch over you," she bade.

As I walked through the greenhouse for the last time, I turned back once to look at the Shadow. She watched me go, one hand raised in a salute of farewell, silver and gray robes shimmering in the sunlight. Behind her, Ash's tree glittered like a verdant fire, and for a moment I felt a pang as I remembered the phoenix…

Then they were obscured from view as I turned and followed Luke's call.

_Break…_

"Vendaxa," the Ky-Lin declared, halting at the boundary where the gray-stoned plain ended and thick jungle began. "Five kilometers straight ahead is a small town where you may charter transport to wherever you please. The Shadow has packed enough credits in your supplies to see you on your way."

Jessa encircled the beast's colorful neck in her arms. "We're gonna miss you, you pain in the neck."

"Just doing my job," he explained, ducking his head in embarrassment. "Well… not quite… I had ulterior motives for helping you out…"

"The Shadow promised you payment?" asked Fett.

"Ky-Lins have no use for money," he replied. "I had traveled once with Talitha's mother, and I have always wondered how her story – and the story of her child – would be finished. Now that my curiosity is satisfied, my work for the Shadow has come to an end."

"What will you do now?" asked Luke.

He shrugged, an odd sight for a quadruped. "Who knows? Time is a relative thing."

Nightwind threw his head back and drank deeply of the wind. "Jungle smells inviting. Let's go in."

"In a minute," I told him. To the Ky-Lin I said "Thank you for all your help."

He smiled. "My life is dedicated to helping others," he told me. "Wait, before you go…" He craned his neck about and pulled something from his back with his teeth – something I had not noticed until now. It was a bag, one that clattered loudly as he proffered it to me.

"The items you gathered on your quests," he explained. "Give them to those that leave when they discover their destinies."

"Very well," I replied, taking the sack. "May the Force be with you."

"Good fortune upon all of you!" he shouted, and off he galloped.

"Weird guy," Tuck murmured. "I'll miss him."

Fett peered into the jungle. "Why did she drop us off here? There's not much on this planet."

"We'll find out, won't we?" Luke replied, hand on his lightsaber as he led the way in.

Five kilometers is not a great distance – unless you are traveling through a heavily forested area on foot. Hours went by as we hacked through undergrowth, untangled ourselves from low branches and vines, and veered off the path to bypass obstacles and hazards such as fallen trees and pools of quicksand. Nightwind repeatedly stopped in his tracks to inspect the shredded bark of a tree or a pile of animal scat, often blocking the path for the rest of us.

"Move it along!" snapped Fett, shoving Nightwind from behind.

"Just wanted a look," he complained, abandoning the claw-torn earth he was investigating and moving forward with a pained expression.

"At this rate, we'll never make it to the spaceport," Jessa huffed.

"We will," Luke assured us. "Just maybe not tonight."

"Definitely not tonight," Tuck corrected. "It's starting to get dark."

"Can you find us someplace to stay the night?" asked Luke.

"Sure can." He motioned for us to follow him. "This way."

The sun was halfway down, slanting bars of scarlet and orange light through the trees, when we came upon the rusted, ruined AT-ST walker. Only a shell of the machine was left, the machinery of the interior having been gutted by thieves, scroungers, and mynocks long ago. Yet that shell was intact enough to provide us shelter for the night.

"Nightwind, coming in?" asked Luke, loosening the straps that held our supplies onto his back. "There's plenty of room for you."

He shook his head. "Sleep outside."

Luke shrugged. "Okay. But you're welcome to come in if you feel like it."

As I unpacked our supplies, I discovered a cooking reactor and an electronic lantern in one of the packs. For a moment I could not understand why the Shadow had given us these items… until I recalled that Ash, the one who had made our fires for so long, was no longer with us. I had a feeling it would be a good long while before I was accustomed to her absence.

"We'll take turns keeping watch tonight," suggested Fett. "Vendaxa is infamous for its monsters."

"I'll take first watch," Jessa volunteered. "Who's second? Don't want to wake up the wrong person and deal with a cranky guy all night."

"I'll go next," Luke volunteered.

"Okay, be back for you later." She left the walker, climbed a short way up a nearby tree, and assumed a pose eerily similar to a bird of prey.

Fett straightened up from adding items to the cooking pot – the Shadow had only packed real foodstuffs in our supplies, evidently not holding ration trays in high regard. "So do any of us have any idea what we're doing now?"

"Not a clue," Tuck replied.

"Well, I think we all know what we're NOT doing," Luke replied with a laugh, earning a glare from Fett and a chuckle from Tuck.

"Well, ONE of us needs to decide before we get to the spaceport," Fett grumbled. "Otherwise we'll just be wandering the galaxy again."

"Is there anything wrong with that option?" I put forth.

"Not really," Luke replied. "But this time we don't have the Shadow's guidance. We could end up running in circles the rest of our lives."

A piercing cry split the evening. Jessa's silhouette stood out plainly against the dying sun as she raised her head to see what was causing the racket.

"Nightwind, cut it out!" she shouted.

Another cry was her reply.

"Nightwind, what's your problem?" She began to descend the tree. "Honestly, keep up the noise and you'll attract every beastie in the neighborhood… OH SITHSPIT!"

Before any of us could respond to her expletive, she had leaped down from the tree and was running for the shelter at top speed.

"What did you do?" demanded Fett, drawing his blaster and leaping to his feet, though the sudden motion made him wince.

"It's not Nightwind!" she shrieked.

A fearsome scream filled the interior of the walker as the form of an acklay blocked our exit – a huge monster with jet-black hide, a scarred carapace, and an ugly slash across his left eye. He screamed again, blasting us with his rancid breath, and tried his hardest to wedge himself through the opening and within reach of his prey. I caught his nightmarish thought processes thanks to the ring, and they were nothing like Nightwind's – incoherent, feral, a terrifying world of absolutes that relegated all creatures to either prey, foes, or potential mates.

And unfortunately, we fell into the first category.

Fett opened fire on the creature, and he screamed in pain as the bolts struck his shoulders. Enraged as well as hungry, he lashed at us with his foreclaws, knocking over the cooking reactor and spilling its contents into the dirt.

"Stop shooting, you're just pissing it off!" screeched Jessa.

"Do you have any suggestions?" demanded the hunter.

Suddenly the monster staggered to the side as another acklay – Nightwind! – slammed into him.

"Nightwind, no!" I shouted. He could not fight this monster! He had no chance against it! He was only a baby, he would be torn to shreds…

But Nightwind was no longer the terrified cub we had discovered tangled in the brush on Corellia. He was enormous – not quite the size of his adversary, but heavily muscled and intelligent-eyed, with powerful adult teeth replacing his impotent baby fangs. His hide was no longer sunset-colored or berry-red, but the hue of fresh blood. Somehow, without any of us realizing it, our acklay child had grown up.

The black beast screamed again, rearing on his hind legs as he challenged this new foe. We were suddenly eliminated from his animal mind as surely as if his memory had been erased. We were merely a nuisance. Nightwind was an intruder… and a potential usurper to his domain.

If I had expected our friend to back down from the challenge, I was sorely mistaken. He trumpeted a reply and reared, slashing the air with his claws. The black roared assent and struck viciously with both forelegs.

"We have to help him!" Luke cried.

"We can't interfere," Fett replied.

"But he'll die!" Jessa protested.

"One of them will be defeated," Fett acknowledged. "It is the way of the species."

"Don't you care about him?" Jessa demanded angrily.

"I care," Fett replied quietly. "Enough to let him make his own choice."

The two creatures slashed and snapped at one another, sometimes dodging an opponent's strike, more often not. The black drew blood from Nightwind's shoulder, while Nightwind scored a bite on the face that left a row of scarlet wounds. The older beast slashed a deep cut down his foe's right middle leg; Nightwind retaliated by dealing a blow that cracked the black's carapace. As they slammed into each other again and again blood rained down on the forest floor, and the ground shuddered ominously as if gods clashed here.

The ring burned as I watched, warning me not to get involved. It, too, seemed to be awaiting the outcome of this battle, though somehow I got the feeling it knew how this would play out.

The black lunged violently, and both combatants tumbled out of our sight. There was a scream of mortal pain, then brutal thrashings in the undergrowth as the victor finished his opponent…

Then nothing but the crying of birds as they fled the scene.

The battle was over; someone had won. I edged forward to get a glimpse of who had triumphed.

"Stay back," Luke told me, catching my shoulder. "The black'll kill you."

"How can you be sure he succeeded?" I demanded.

Before he could retort, a massive form limped our way, his color indistinct in the fading light. Fett and Tuck aimed their blasters at the beast as it approached…

"It's me," came Nightwind's reassurance. "You all right?"

I felt weak with relief. "No one is hurt. What about you?"

"My shoulder and leg are losing blood, but not much," he replied, ducking his head to peer into the walker. "You can put the weapons down. He's dead."

Tuck obeyed, but Fett kept his blaster ready. "Nightwind, behind you!" he barked.

More acklays were emerging from the trees, far too many for Nightwind to take on alone. Were they here to avenge their fallen comrade? I scanned the beasts. Luckily, none were the size of the fallen black. Most of them had the gray or brown hides of females, and those that were male were generally young, the largest being half Nightwind's size.

A fawn-colored female approached Nightwind, who growled warningly and braced his legs against the ground, fully prepared to fight back. But the female bent her head low in a submissive gesture, then reached around and began licking his wounded shoulder.

"Look at that," Tuck marveled. "He's got a girlfriend."

"Wonder what the cubs'll look like," chuckled Jessa.

The other acklays crowded around Nightwind, the adults touching him with their muzzles, the young ones scampering about his legs like pups. Nightwind looked surprised for a moment, then he began exchanging conversation with them, barking and touching noses, snapping playfully at the cubs and twining necks with the females.

At length he turned to face us. "You sleep," he told us. "We'll keep watch."

We obeyed, though I could not help feeling a peculiar sadness as I retired that night.

_Break…_

It took some time for Nightwind to communicate to the other acklays that we were not to be eaten or otherwise harassed. Time and again a pack member ventured too close to us as we prepared for the journey to the spaceport, and time and again Nightwind would snap and growl to put the offender in his or her place.

"Humans are not food," he told them sternly, but his eyes danced as he looked at me.

"Very good," I told him laughingly, tightening the straps holding our supplies to his back. "Tell them to keep that in mind. A man-eating acklay is eventually a dead acklay."

Nightwind nodded. "They want to come with us."

"Oh, that'll go over big with the folks at the spaceport," Jessa said sarcastically.

"Only to edge of jungle," Nightwind replied. "They'll stay in the trees. Can't stand bright light." He cocked his head amusedly. "Doesn't bother me."

"You're used to it," Luke told him. "They're not."

An hour and a half later, the jungle cleared. A small town lay just ahead… and a thriving spaceport that should take us on the next step of our journey.

"Where to?" asked Tuck.

"I think," Luke said quietly, "that I'm going to Corusant. That's where the Alliance should be now." He turned to the others. "Any objections?"

"Nope," Jessa replied.

"None here," Tuck answered.

Fett did not reply, but he did not object either, so I supposed he was fine with the plan.

"I have no objections," I replied.

"But the Alliance'll be looking for you," Tuck pointed out.

"I have the ring," I replied. "It will protect me."

"Nightwind, what about you?" asked Luke.

The acklay turned to look back into the jungle. The fawn-colored female cocked her head coquettishly at him, which seemed to make up his mind.

"I'm staying," he replied.

"Are you sure?" I asked him. "Is this really what you want?"

"You told your friend on Tatooine I was my own creature," he answered. "I answer only to myself. This is my choice. You can't choose for me."

"I know," I replied. "But I wanted to be sure."

He lowered his head and nuzzled me gently. "They need me. Hunters come and kill them, take their eggs and young. The black was bold but stupid. I killed him. They need a leader who knows about humans and how to deal with them. I am that leader."

I rested both hands on Nightwind's muzzle. He had been with us almost from the beginning, always willing to help, uncomplaining and ever willing to tackle whatever projects we found on the way. He had helped me look at the world around myself in a new light, to appreciate the knowledge the beasts of land and sky could offer me if I only listened. And he had saved all our lives on more than one occasion. In short, he was a loyal friend.

"We will miss you," I told him.

"And I'll miss you." He raised a foreclaw and stuck it in his mouth, grimacing as he twisted the limb about. With a pop a yellow-ivory object fell from his jaws – a tooth.

"Last baby tooth," he replied. "Been bothering me for awhile. Keep it to remember me by. Can I have my claw please? Would like to tell cubs how I fought a dragon!"

I reached into the bag the Ky-Lin had given us and withdrew the band of leather that carried the Great Red's claw. Nightwind bowed to accept the token as regally as a king receiving a crown.

"Good luck," Fett wished him, unfastening the straps and letting our supplies slide from his back.

"Stay out of trouble," Tuck advised, slapping his side in a friendly gesture.

"May the Force be with you," Luke told him.

"I'll miss you, you overgrown praying mantis you," Jessa said with a high-pitched laugh that was obviously meant to mask her tears.

"Farewell, Nightwind," I bade him.

"Farewell, Anakin," he replied. "Remember me."

And he and his new pack melted into the jungle.

Nearly an hour went by before we found the strength to move on. I felt as if I were leaving part of my heart behind in the jungle. And that disturbed me greatly. For if losing the two animals in our party cut me this deeply, how would losing Luke affect my heart?

_Break…_

There was only one flight to the Core from Vendaxa, and it only went as far as Eclipse. From there, we would have to take a second ship to Corusant. Having little other option, we payed our fares and boarded.

As the passenger shuttle took off, we were afforded our last look at Nightwind.

"This is your captain speaking," came a voice over the intercom system. "If you look out to your left, you'll see an impressive specimen of one of Vendaxa's native species – an odd sight, as they normally don't leave the darkness of the jungles…"

The five of us immediately gathered about a viewport.

A rocky tor jutted from the forest like the fin of a predatory fish from the ocean, and it was atop this rise that a blood-red acklay reared, stabbing spike-like forelegs upward as if seeking to claw our ship from the sky, teeth bared in a show of ferocity. The rising sun caught upon a spot of gold on his breast – the claw of the Great Red.

"Goodbye, Nightwind," I whispered. "May all our stories end as happily as yours."


	29. Brothers at Last

**Chapter XXVIII – Brothers at Last**

It was winter on the northern hemisphere of Eclipse, and the landscape was awash in white as our freighter touched down at a remote spaceport. The snow scrunched under our feet as we disembarked, muffling our footsteps and seeming to hush every sound. Large flakes of the stuff continued to spiral down around us as we walked to a nearby cantina, where we hoped to locate transport to Corusant.

"I love snow," Jessa said dreamily, throwing her head back to stare into the gray-cloaked sky. "Which is funny, since where I grew up we didn't get much of it. We'd go up to my Grandma's house in McCall for Christmas, though, and she always got, like, a foot of it…" She fell backward into a drift, holding her limbs out stiffly and sweeping them back and forth as if trying to clear a path with her body. Fett gave her an odd look.

"Don't look at me like that, I'm making a snow angel!" she told him.

"Good," he replied with some relief. "I thought you were having a fit of some kind."

"My first experience with snow was on Hoth," Luke noted, bending down and scooping up a handful of soft white ice. "It was like cold wet sand to me." He chuckled. "When Wedge found out about my ignorance, he had to educate me by burying me in a snowdrift."

I dragged my fingers through a layer of snow that had accumulated atop the hood of a parked landspeeder. My memories of snow were dim – I had only experienced it a few times as a Jedi, and even on those occasions I had been preoccupied with other matters. Now, isolated from the world as I was through my armor, the experience was lost to me.

Strangely enough, I felt no sadness as I contemplated this. I was wistful, yes, but it was hardly a tragedy. Perhaps life had finally been put into perspective for me. Perhaps, having truly empathized with others for the first time in years, I had finally found peace with myself and my own trials.

"I've been thinking of Nightwind," I murmured. "He never saw snow. He would have enjoyed being here."

Luke let the snow in his hand fall to the ground. "I wonder if it snows at all on Vendaxa."

"In the mountains," Fett replied. "But few acklays live on the mountains…"

The blow of an unlikely weapon cut off the rest of his sentence. The projectile struck his shoulder and sprayed his face with fragments, making him recoil with the impact. All our eyes turned to the attacker.

Tuck stood some distance away, clutching his sides and howling with laughter. "For the galaxy's best hunter, Fett, you've got the reflexes of a comatose Hutt!"

Fett wiped the snow away and growled. "You think you're hot stuff, Tuck? Try this on for size." And he bent down, hastily scraped together an orb of snow, and flung it at the trooper.

"Ha! Missed!" came the taunt.

"Get back here, you coward!" snarled Fett, and he chased Tuck across a vacant lot, pelting snowballs the whole while. Tuck whooped and dodged, turning every now and again to lob a retaliating missile at the hunter.

"You know something?" Jessa noted, eyes sparkling. "I think Fett's feeling better."

"He still limps," I observed. "He has simply forgotten the pain of his illness for awhile."

"They're brothers, you know," she said knowingly. "Come from the same source. Tuck's DNA's been fooled around with a little, of course, him being a stormtrooper, but they're still pretty much brothers. Fett the elder, and Tuck the younger."

"And now they seem to be fighting like brothers," Luke noted, smiling as Fett tackled Tuck and began rubbing his face in the snow, the trooper laughing throughout the ordeal.

Jessa turned to Luke, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. "Looks like fun out there. Shall we join in?"

"I don't know…" Luke began.

"Oh, don't be such a frozen stiff," Jessa teased, and she yanked open the neck of his tunic and dropped a fistful of snow down his back. He yelped with the cold and gave chase as she darted away, laughing hysterically.

I laughed a little as I watched their antics. Let them have a moment to enjoy each other's company a little longer. Let them be a family for a while. All too soon they would be driven apart, perhaps never seeing each other again. I had no desire to interrupt their leisure.

At long last, Fett picked himself up and brushed the snow from the seat of his pants. "Let's go in and warm up," he suggested.

"And buy something hot to drink," Luke suggested.

Tuck jogged up to join us, holding something aloft. "Did one of you drop this?"

"What is it?"

He extended it toward us. It was a credit chip, unlabeled and unmarked. Its pale color had camouflaged it excellently against the snow, but of course Tuck had found it without any problem.

Fett whistled. "Wonder how much money's on the account."

"Wonder who it belongs to," Luke added.

"Whatever, let's go in, I'm frozen solid," Jessa complained.

"I'll join you guys in a minute," Tuck told us. "I have to find the owner of this."

"Your funeral," Fett muttered.

While Tuck moved off to locate the owner of the credit chip, the rest of us retreated to the warmth and comfort of the cantina. Unlike its seedy counterparts on Tatooine and Corusant, this establishment was clean and seemed to service a reputable crowd. The musicians could actually carry a tune, the staffs' uniforms actually covered their bodies, and few if any patrons had intoxicated themselves to the point of volatility or stupidity. Pilots and smugglers abounded, but they seemed perfectly content to discuss business deals or play sabaac rather than pick a fight or leer at the waitresses. The locals even felt comfortable enough here to bring their children in for a meal, though they kept a careful eye on their young ones all the same.

"Get you folks anything?" asked a Twi'lek waitress.

"Something hot for us," Fett replied, gesturing to Luke and himself.

"No thank you," I told her.

"For hot drinks, we have caf, tea, or spiced ginta ale."

"Give me the ale," Fett requested. "Make that two, actually. We're expecting a friend."

"Just caf," Luke told her.

"Coming up." She bustled off with our order.

I scanned our surroundings, just to be on the safe side. We were close to the Galactic Core, and the nearer we got to Corusant, the more we risked someone recognizing Luke. Simply because the Empire was disintegrating did not mean he was out of danger. For all we knew, the Rebellion could have put a price on his head for treason – for did not helping an Imperial elude capture constitute betrayal?

My eyes rested on two young men at the bar, their eyes fixed steadfastly on our table. I did not recognize either of them, only noted that they were about Luke's age, maybe a few years older, and wore suits of burnished steel armor. One had a sharply angled, almost feline face, with slanted, cunning black eyes and close-cropped black hair; the other's features were heavy and thoughtful, his eyes a startling shade of violet, and his hair pale to the point of being almost white. The dark one possessed a jagged scar along his jawline from ear to chin; the pale one had a starburst tattoo around his right eye.

The waitress returned with Luke and Fett's drinks, and as soon as she had departed I pointed the two men out to the others. Fett gave them a studious look, then shook his head and turned away.

"Don't recognize them," he grunted. "Probably just gawkers."

"Well, they seem to recognize you," Luke noted. "Here they come."

The two men approached the table, and the dark one extended a hand toward Fett. "Boba Fett, the legendary hunter. It's a pleasure making your acquaintance at last."

Fett stared at the proffered hand, then at the man. "Who the stang are you?"

"My name is Seff Mereel," he replied. "Our fathers knew each other long ago."

Fett's eyes widened. "Jaster had a son?"

Seff nodded. "I've seen holos of your father, Jango. You look just like him."

Jessa made to say something, but I kicked her under the table to keep her quiet.

"Seff Mereel," Fett repeated, taking his hand and shaking it. He turned to the pale boy. "Who's this, then?"

"Tuari Redstar," the boy replied, an eager smile on his face. "And I've waited a long time for this moment!"

"What do you mean?" demanded Fett.

"What we mean," Seff explained, "is that we have waited a long time to meet another who is a link to the old Mandalorian Order."

Silence. Then Fett laughed derisively and drained his glass. "And what do two youths know of the Mandalorian Order?"

"We have researched it for years," Tuari countered. "We have even gone as far as to locate pieces of the original armor." He gestured to his own chestplate. "Do you know how difficult it was to achieve two complete sets?"

"The Order was once a great power in the galaxy," Seff added. "It can be great again. Especially if you would consent to being our new leader…"

"You've been blinded by romanticized tales of glory and riches," Fett said dismissively.

"No, Fett," Seff insisted. "We know the Order's past. We know of its mistakes, its fall, and the decay of its fortress. Stang, we've even been to Mandalore and seen what was left of the fortress there! We know there is little glory in the life of a mercenary… but we also know that this Order is something to be preserved, not forgotten and shoved into the vaults of history for the remainder of time."

Fett opened his mouth to fire off a retort.

"Our fathers fought long and hard to keep the Order alive," Seff said at last. "Let's not disappoint them. Let's make them proud of us." He extended a gauntleted hand. "Lead the Order, Fett. Help it rise anew. Let the Mandalorians soar through the stars again."

Fett looked gravely upon Seff, then his gaze moved to Tuari. He seemed to ponder their words. The two youths waited anxiously, hope gleaming in their eyes.

"Well," Fett said at last, "someone has to keep you two young scuts from killing yourselves." He set his glass on the table. "Are you afraid of hard work? If so, you can cut yourselves out of the Order right now."

Seff shook his head.

"I grew up in a mining colony," Tuari said proudly. "Hard work never scared me."

"Good," Fett replied sharply. "Because there's a fortress on Mandalore that needs some serious cleanup and restoration. There's armor to forge, weapons to secure, recruits to gather, supplies to obtain. And in your _spare _time, you will be required to pound the history and codes of the Order into your thick skulls and the skulls of your fellow trainees. Understood?"

"Yes sir!" they barked.

"Our first stop is Tatooine," Fett finished. "I have a ship to pick up. Do you have transport off this rock?"

"We have a ship outside!" Tuari said eagerly. "We can be ready to go in five minutes!"

"Thank you, Fett, for your aid," Seff told him with an exultant smile. "This would have been impossible without you. Come with us to the docking bay?"

"Give me a minute," he replied, waving him away.

The two men departed, talking eagerly between themselves.

Fett turned to face us. "I suppose this is goodbye," he rasped.

"So soon?" asked Luke. "I mean… I thought you'd at least come to Corusant with us…"

"My path has opened for me," he replied. "Why turn away from it now? Seff is correct – the fire of our Order has been gone too long from the universe. The galaxy needs the Jedi to keep from plunging into chaos… but it also needs the Mandalorian Order, if only to keep things from becoming stagnant. And besides, my father would have wanted it this way. For his son to follow in his footsteps and become a great warrior in every sense of the word."

"Does this mean you're stepping down from your Galaxy's Best Bounty Hunter position?" Jessa asked.

He shrugged. "I stepped down from that long ago. After the sarlaac, I'm not what I used to be. I'll never again be strong in the physical sense. It's time I took on a less active role… as a mentor and a leader."

I nodded at Fett's declaration. Even before the ring had bound him to our company, I had respected him as a cunning ally. Fiercely independent and unwilling to become a burden to our party, he had nonetheless been a steadfast and loyal companion. His shrewd mind and unwavering courage had seen us through many tight spots, and though he was hardly the outgoing sort, he had extended his friendship, a rare honor indeed.

"May the Force be with you," Luke told him, giving him a friendly punch in the shoulder.

"And with you," Fett replied. "Good luck in all you do."

"Take care, Fettster," Jessa chuckled. "Miss you."

"Stay out of trouble," he ordered her.

"Will you at least stay to bid Tuck goodbye?" I asked.

Fett shook his head. "I've said my goodbyes to him. It was always awkward being around him, to see my face mirrored in his. But I wish him luck in his journeys." He bent down and picked up one of the packs, the one that contained his armor and weaponry. "The mythosaur axe. It is mine by birthright. Let me have it."

I drew the weapon from the bag the Ky-Lin had given me and handed it to him. "May the Force be with you, Fett."

He took the axe, then pulled something from his belt pouch, a grayish carved figure, and set it on the table. "I made this on our travels. Do what you will with it." He hesitated, then gave a parting bow. "Remember me."

And he walked briskly away.

Jessa picked the carving up and handed it to me. "It's made out of griffon bone," she noted. "And it looks like the Mandalorian crest."

"Fitting," I replied, and I withdrew Ash's feather and Nightwind's tooth and laid them on either side of Fett's carving. "As everyone leaves the fellowship, they also leave something behind."

Luke touched each item in turn. "Something to remember them by…" He frowned. "Where's Tuck?"

"Dunno, wasn't my day to watch him," Jessa shot back.

I quickly swept the items back into our packs, then we hurriedly retrieved our supplies and set off in search of our wayward companion. Tuck had a knack for finding trouble if left to his own devices…

We did not have far to look. The trooper was in a nearby docking bay, talking and laughing with an enormous, tattooed Besalisk. The four-armed alien spotted us and waved us over, grinning delightedly.

"So these are the friends you told me so much about!" he thundered jovially, crushing us against him in a welcoming embrace. "Good afternoon to you all! Your friend here is something else, I can tell you that…"

"Where's Fett?" Tuck asked us, his smile vanishing.

"He has gone," I replied, and explained.

Tuck was silent for a minute. "He warned me he might not say goodbye," he said at last. "So I guess I'm not that surprised." He shrugged. "Happiness to him, though. I don't begrudge him in the least."

"Who's this?" asked Luke.

"Name's Zanipo, but friends call me Nip," the Besalisk replied. "Jack of all trades, if you will – smuggling, gunrunning, some minor prospecting here and there, maybe the odd hunt or two… you name it, it's on my resume somewhere." He slapped Tuck's shoulder good-naturedly, the weight of the beefy hand making the trooper stagger. "Your friend here found the credit chip I'd given up for lost."

"We are glad he located its owner," I replied.

"And he tells me he's got a knack for finding things. A gift." He laughed cheerfully. "A gift I could use badly. You see, I'm in need of a partner."

"We were discussing it when you arrived," Tuck explained. "He's an excellent strategist, and he knows the good assignments from the lousy ones. I'm a Finder, and I'm Force-sensitive enough to sense approaching danger. Together, we can be a pretty good team."

"Nip and Tuck," Jessa said knowingly. "Catchy."

"Fett's replacement as best bounty hunter, perhaps?" Luke suggested.

"Who knows?" Nip replied, waving his hands about. "All I know is this kid's got talent, but it does no good moldering away in his brain. I can put it to good use."

I hesitated. Would this Nip fellow use Tuck's gift for his own gain? Was Tuck merely a pawn?

But the ring throbbed approvingly, and I sensed that Nip's intentions were good. Yes, he needed to make a living, and Tuck's gift would make it easier for him to do so. But he also took Tuck's needs for employment and opportunity into consideration. And if nothing else, he would prove to be the mentor our friend would need if he were to succeed at his new occupation.

Tuck smiled. Ah, I would miss this boy. He had readily accepted our unlikely party and his induction into its ranks. His gift had proven invaluable on many of our adventures, and his keen eye for detail had also been of great worth. And unlike many of his clone brothers, he had developed a profound sense of empathy – not just for our party or for his comrades, but for many we had come across in our travels. He was a true friend, and he would be greatly missed.

"Good luck," Luke wished him.

"Same to you," he replied.

"Practice your aim," Jessa advised. "Stormie aim does a bounty hunter no good. And be safe."

"I'll remember that," Tuck laughed.

"May the Force be with you," I bade him, pulling the medal the Wayland boy had crafted for him from the bag and handing it to him.

"Same to you." He took the medal, then pulled something from his belt pouch and handed it to me – his stormtrooper ID card. "I don't need this anymore. You keep it." He saluted. "Remember me."

"I shall."

Together, the remaining three members of our company watched as Nip and Tuck boarded their ship and departed with a bellow of thrusters.

"Well," Jessa said resignedly, "guess we'd better charter that trip to Corusant."

Luke sighed deeply. "I'm next."

"What?" Jessa and I replied at the same time.

"Haven't you noticed?" Luke asked. "We're breaking up in the order of the binding. First Ash, then Nightwind, then Fett, then Tuck…"

And Luke would be next in line, of course. Suddenly I had no desire to find a ship bound for Corusant. I had no desire to have my son taken from me, not now! We'd had so little time together…

"It'll happen sooner or later," Jessa told us fatalistically. "No use putting it off. Let's go. I'm freezing my cyborg tush off out here…"


	30. Return of the Jedi

**Chapter XXIX – Return of the Jedi**

Luke and I talked almost nonstop those last few hours to Corusant, discussing our childhoods, our adventures, our hopes for the future. I realized I was attempting to cram a lifetime's worth of experience into such a short time, but what else could I do? Luke and I would be separated soon, and I wanted to learn all I could of my son before he was taken from my side. Even if I never saw him again, I would at least have those memories to cling to.

When the shuttle finally touched down on the city-planet, I was loath to disembark. Somehow I was certain a hideous fate awaited us outside the ship – arrest, capture, death…

"There's no one out there," Luke assured me. "Besides, you have the ring. It's protected your identity up 'til now, hasn't it?"

"There have been times it has failed," I reminded him.

"For the hundredth time, Darth, the ring has its own will," Jessa told me. "It's known best all this time. Trust it a little longer at least."

I hesitated, then finally braced myself for the worst and stepped off the ship. Instantly I felt the cloaking illusion of the ring enfold me, shielding me from discovery. I relaxed slightly and followed the others.

"Where to?" asked Jessa. "I don't know this place…"

"To tell the truth, I'm not familiar with Corusant at all," Luke confessed. He turned anxiously to me.

"If the Alliance was truly serious about restoring justice to the galaxy, they would have formed a new government by now," I replied. "Thus, the most logical place to look for them would be in the Imperial Palace – or the Chancellor's Palace, if they have elected to revert back to Republic laws."

Jessa snorted. "Republic laws no longer worked. Why reinstate them?"

"Republic laws are better than no law system at all," Luke told her. He glanced around. "So which way is the palace anyhow?"

"We have to ascend a few levels before we get there," I told him, motioning for him to follow me.

No one paid us any mind as we made our way down the busy walkways. As far as they were concerned, we were simply an older gentleman, a youth, and a droid out for a stroll. They could not know that a notorious Sith, a renegade Jedi, and a musically inclined cyborg walked among them. They could not know that we had spent months in the company of an immortal, traversing the galaxy, facing down monsters and armies, gaining wisdom from a sorceress and a mystical ring…

A wild shriek split the air, filled with emotion… and yet quite mechanical.

"Artoo!" exclaimed Luke.

A rather broadly-built human woman yelped and moved aside as a blue-and-white astromech droid pushed past her and hurried toward us as fast as its three treaded feet would allow, chirping and beeping ecstatically all the while. I instantly recognized the droid – Artoo Detoo, the spirited little astromech that had saved my life on many occasions and, in general, had been one of the most loyal companions I had ever known.

"Hey Artoo," Luke greeted, laughing joyously as he knelt and wrapped his arms around the little droid, ignoring the stares of passerby. "It's been a long time, hasn't it?"

Jessa chuckled. "Hello, Artoo Detoo. I'm honored to finally meet you."

Artoo crooned appreciatively… then turned his dome to face me. His single red photoreceptor studied me with such careful scrutiny that I began to wonder if the ring's illusionary power worked on droids. Or if it was just being selective…

"This is a friend, Artoo," Luke told him. "They're both friends. Don't be shy."

The droid hummed thoughtfully. Then it gave a series of blips and whirrs that the ring translated as "I know who you are, but don't worry. Your secret's safe with me."

Hurried footsteps approached, and a scruffy-looking Corellian pushed past a startled Gran pilot and addressed the droid in a testy voice.

"Artoo, what are you… I'm sorry sir, he's been quite the handful lately… come on, Artoo, that's not him! Quit wandering off…"

"Not who, Han?" Luke asked, arching an eyebrow.

Han glanced up sharply, plainly annoyed. But as his brown eyes met Luke's steady blue gaze, his expression became one of disbelief… disbelief that quickly dissolved into joy.

"Luke!" he cried, throwing his arms around him. "Oh Luke, how did you get back – oh, don't answer, I'm just glad to see you…"

Luke returned the embrace. "I missed you, Han."

Han broke away and glowered at his friend. "Where the stang were you, kid? Don't you know how hard it was to keep Leia sane on a daily basis? We were all worried sick about you – some of the Alliance has even given you up for dead!"

"Then I'll be quite the surprise for them, won't I?" Luke said with a grin. He gestured in my direction. "Han, these are friends of mine. Anakin and Jessa."

Jessa extended a clawed hand. "Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Solo."

"Yeah, you too," Han replied, giving her an odd look but shaking her hand anyhow. "Weird droid."

"That's cyborg to you, flyboy," Jessa replied, placing her hands on her hip servomotors. "Get it right."

"Right then." He turned to face me. "Anakin, huh? I'm Han Solo, friend of Luke's."

"A pleasure, Han." I had met Solo before, of course, but I preferred not to think on it. If he knew me for who I truly was, he surely would have drawn his blaster on the spot.

"So where's Leia?" asked Luke. "I'd like to see her."

Han slapped Luke's shoulder. "I'm sure you would, Luke. This way."

Break… 

It was a highly emotional reunion that transpired in one of the private meeting rooms of the Chancellor's Palace. The moment Luke entered the chamber, Leia locked her arms around his body and kissed him soundly on the cheek, tears flowing from her eyes. They embraced for a very long time, until Jessa began making small retching sounds.

"Luke…" the princess breathed. "When you didn't come back… I thought the worst. I'm so glad you made it…"

"I'm only sorry I couldn't return sooner," Luke replied. "I'm sorry I let the Alliance down when it needed me the most."

Han cleared his throat. "Which reminds me, kid. I think you owe us an explanation." He gestured for everyone to sit down. "Where were you all this time? Why didn't you come back? And what do these two oddballs have to do with it?"

Jessa rolled her eyes. "He hangs out with a Wookie and drives an antique-store reject, and he's calling us oddballs."

"Quiet," I ordered her.

"Believe me, Han, you should have seen this group when it was seven members and not just three." Luke laughed. "It's a long story… and there are parts you probably won't believe. But it has to be told." He looked to me as if seeking permission.

"Tell them," I ordered. "Leia has a right to know, at least."

"Right to know what?" she asked, brow furrowed.

Luke did not answer the question, but launched into the story as best he could, Jessa filling in the gaps where necessary. I kept silent, watching their faces reflect first interest, then growing skepticism as the tale progressed. I did not fault them for not believing – had I heard this story as an outsider, I would have suggested the teller be evaluated for psychological problems.

"So let me get this straight," Han said disbelievingly. "All this is because of a ring?"

Luke sighed. "I know it sounds crazy…"

"Luke, please," Leia pleaded, rubbing her temples. "Tell us the real reason you were gone. Don't humiliate yourself with a fairy tale about horses and magicians and Vader being a dragon..."

"I told you the real reason," Luke insisted. "And Jessa can verify the entire story."

"So there," Jessa added, as if her support of his story was unshakable testimony.

A challenging look entered Han's eyes. "So where's the ring?"

"What?" asked Luke, stunned.

"Where's the ring? Can you show it to us?"

Luke hesitated. "It fuses itself to the wearer's hand. And at the moment, my father wears it."

"So what's the problem?" asked Han. "Bring him in and we'll have a look."

"Han, my father's the most wanted man in the galaxy!" Luke retorted. "If he shows his face in here, he'll be arrested on sight…"

"Not if we make a deal," Jessa cut in. She turned to face Han and Leia. "How about it? Vader shows his face and the ring, and in return you don't order his arrest. Is it a deal?"

Leia and Han exchanged an odd look, then Leia turned back to Luke. "All right. Vader can come in, and we won't call in soldiers."

Luke turned to me. "But he's already here."

Shocked, she turned to face me.

"One of the powers the ring grants is that of illusion," I informed her, holding up my left hand. "It is this illusion that has protected me when our travels have taken us to populated worlds. I'm dropping the illusion now." And I released the power holding my disguise in place, letting them see me as I truly was.

Their fear was palpable… and so was Luke's relief when they finally saw the ring upon my hand.

"So it's true," Leia breathed. "It's true, every word…"

"Including the dragon part?" Han asked, giving me a strange look.

"Yes," I told him. "Even that."

Han shook his head. "I need a stiff drink after this."

"Drink, hell," Jessa complained. "I've been with these guys almost a year. At this point, I need major therapy."

My eyes rested on Leia, who could not seem to take her eyes off of me. I searched her face for the anger, the hatred, the loathing I expected to see there. The anger was present, but in her eyes I also saw… longing? Sadness? Pity?

"Leia," I said quietly, "I have spent too little time with you to properly call you daughter. But rest assured that I loved your mother truly and deeply, and that I wanted only to protect her and my children when I did what I did. And believe me, if I had known you to be my daughter, I would never have subjected you to the atrocities I did. I do not ask you to forget what I have done… but I do plead your forgiveness."

"Vader," she replied hesitantly. "I… I've suffered too much at your hands to call you Father. But Luke… he's always been a good judge of people. If he sees good in you, it must be there." She gave a wan smile. "From this point onward, I have no quarrel with you. I can't promise I won't be angry with you… but I'll try not to hate you."

I next turned to Han. "Han Solo, I sense that you love Leia, and that you have known of her relation to me for some time."

He nodded. "Yeah. She let it slip back on Endor."

"I have little right to forbid you from marrying her, you know," I told him. "I've done nothing worthy of the title of Father for her. But I do wish to give the two of you my blessing… and I pray the Force always watches over you."

Han's jaw dropped slightly, then he regained his composure. "Look… what happened on Bespin… forget about it. Luke and Leia have gone through a lot more than me… and if they can forgive you, I should too." He placed his hands on Leia's shoulders. "I'd never do anything to hurt Leia. Remember that. And… and thanks for your blessing."

I hesitated, then spoke my fear at last. "Does Luke face punishment?"

"What in the galaxy for?" Leia exclaimed.

"For deserting the war, or for harboring a criminal?" I clarified.

"I think the Alliance'll be too happy to see him again to care," Han replied. "You should have seen the look on General Madine's face when I told him Luke was back. I thought he was going to pass out."

It was as if a great burden had been lifted from my shoulders. Luke would not suffer on my account. He would be known as a hero, not as a defector, a traitor, or the son of a warlord.

No one said anything for a few minutes. Save the constant rasp of my respirator, all was silent. It was as if each of us had tapped out our available stores of words for the day.

At last Leia stood. "The Alliance is holding a celebration tonight in honor of Luke's return. As Luke's father and traveling companion, I suppose the two of you should be invited."

"Oh, a party?" Jessa exclaimed happily. "I love parties. Got karaoke?"

"Kary-what?" repeated Han.

"Never mind."

I stood and afforded Leia a bow. "With all due respect, I think we should be on our way."

Luke looked pained. "I'd hoped for you to stay a little longer…"

"Luke, we have had a year together. That is far more than I ever dreamed of having with you. Yes, it is far too short a time, but it is better than nothing at all. Besides, we have been lucky so far to avoid capture. I have no wish to press our luck."

"We can arrange for you to leave quietly," Han assured us. "There's a small shuttle on a private landing pad on the 440th level. Clearance codes are in the ship's computer."

"Thank you, Han," I told him. "I am indebted to you and Leia."

Leia saw the troubled expression on Luke's face and placed a gentle hand on his arm. "Why don't you walk them to the shuttle, Luke? You can have a few more minutes."

He nodded wordlessly and led us out.

The shuttle was in good order, if small and slightly outdated – in other words, perfect for our needs. Jessa embraced Luke tightly before hopping into the cockpit for a pre-flight check.

"You remind me of my brother," Jessa told him. "And I love you like a brother, too. I'd tell you to stay out of trouble, but telling that to a Skywalker is like telling a fish to stay out of water. So just be a little careful."

"I'll be careful," he assured her, laughing slightly.

For a long time I could say nothing to Luke. There was simply too much to say. My son, a gift from my Padme, my savior and confidant… he had believed in me. He had drawn me from the darkness and set me on the path to my destiny. He had been a source of infinite encouragement, not just for me, but for our entire party. His endless optimism had been a great boon for us and a refreshing change from the gloom-and-doom that had engulfed the galaxy in the wake of the Empire's collapse. I loved him, and his departure from the fellowship would tear a wound in my heart that would not soon heal.

I took Luke in my arms and embraced him tightly. "My son… thank you for coming for me on Endor. Thank you for believing in me."

"You're my father," he replied quietly. "How could I not help you? I couldn't destroy you, knowing who you were. I had to save you somehow."

"And save me you did. I owe you my life, my son. I can never repay you for what you did for me."

"You did plenty for me as well. Not only did you give me life, but you showed me the flaws of the old Jedi Order… and you taught me respect for the other great powers in this galaxy. You don't owe me a thing." He smiled. "I only hope I can bring back a Jedi Order you'd be proud of – one that works for the good of the galaxy."

I pulled back and stared into his incredibly blue eyes, so much like mine when I was young… and if the Ky-Lin was to be believed, so much like his grandmother's.

"We will meet again," I told him. "I say this not to comfort you – it is a certainty. This is not our final moment together."

He held my gaze. "What will you do now?"

Days ago, I could not have answered that question. Now, I knew the answer.

"Your grandfather, Jasper, told me that other dragons still existed, as ignorant of the ways of their kind as the scattered Force-strongs of the galaxy are ignorant of the Jedi teachings. Your duty is to gather those Force adepts and train them… and my duty is to educate my dragon brethren, wherever they may be."

"That sounds dangerous."

"Perhaps it is. But I will find a way. First I must help Jessa find her place, then I will find a way."

He nodded. "Take care of her." He handed me something. "And take care of this."

It was a piece of carved jappor on a cord of leather, darkened and smooth with age, as familiar to me now as it had been twenty years ago when I had seen it last…

"Where did you get this?"

"I've always had it," Luke replied simply. "Aunt Beru… said it came from my mother."

"That it did." I held it out to him. "Keep it. To remember her by."

He shook his head. "I have access to the Jedi Archives now. I'm sure I can dig up a holo of her somewhere and copy it. You need it more than I do." He smiled fondly. "What I'd like to keep is that headdress Chief Chirpa gave me. Just in case I ever forget Logray's counsel."

I laughed and surrendered the item. "Please tell me you won't wear it to the celebration tonight."

The ring gave a sudden stab of warning, and I looked up to see a patrol speeder closing in. Obviously no one was supposed to be here.

"Go!" Luke urged me. "Before they see you!" Then, in a quiet voice that was nearly a whisper, he added "Remember me."

"How can I forget you, my son?"

The ring stabbed again, and this time I heeded its warning and boarded the shuttle. We had lifted off and were well on our way to hyperspace before the patrol speeder could call in reinforcements.

I closed my eyes to shut out the pain. My son was gone.

"Darth…"

"I do not want your sympathy, Jessa."

"I just wanted to say…"

"If you tell me you're sorry, Jessa, I will bite you."

She stared at me, stunned. "You can't bite through the mask!"

I cocked my helmet at her. "I can get creative."

Jessa stared a moment longer, then burst into laughter. "Not fair, using my own words against me!"

I could not stop myself – I laughed long and hard as well. And though laughter alone could not mend my heart, it could at least ease the pain.


	31. The Place of Power

**Chapter XXX – The Place of Power**

Earth. A backwater planet whose natives nonetheless possessed an intimate knowledge of our galaxy's dealings. Property of General Grievous. Jessa's homeworld. Birthplace of Talitha and the Shadow. Original homeworld of the dragons of old.

And our final destination.

I set the shuttle down atop a plateau that offered us an incredible view of the surrounding landscape. Dust-colored scrub radiated out from the base of the plateau in all directions, scrub that eventually faded into a uniform reddish-tan of sands and sun-cracked earth. Scarlet and purple mountains lined the horizon, and rags of white cloud dotted the endlessly blue sky. A lone bird of prey circled overhead on the dry wind, and in the distance a sprawl of gray was visible – a small city.

"Jessa, you know this planet," I told her as we exited the shuttle. "Where are we?"

"Judging by the terrain, I'd say Arizona," she replied, shielding her eyes with a hand as she scanned the horizon. Her gaze rested on the distant city, and a flash of recognition crossed her eyes. "Yup, definitely Arizona."

"You recognize the town."

She nodded. "Yup. Behind us is an Indian Reservation, and it used to be a big game for kids to sneak inside the borders and get drunk or harass the wildlife or other brainless stuff." She gestured dramatically at the town. "And that, my friend, is Black Water, Arizona, so named because when they first established it and tried drilling a well all that came out was bad water." She sighed. "That's my hometown."

She had grown up here. The journey had come full circle for her. She was home.

"And if I remember correctly, judging from our position right now…" She pointed at the easternmost edge of the sprawl of civilization. "My folks' house should be about there."

"Will you go there now?"

She shook her head. "No," she said in a soft voice. "My life there is over. It's time I moved on."'

Without a word we located a path down the plateau, descending to the desert floor and walking away from Black Water. Jessa only spoke to point out various creatures and identify them – hawk, rattlesnake, horned toad, jackrabbit, armadillo. Beyond that, nothing was said… but then again, nothing needed to be said.

The ring pulsed strongly as we walked. I flexed my hand in anticipation. I had not simply come to Earth on a whim. I sensed there was something here that could help me. I knew what I had to do, but I would need the aid of a higher power to accomplish it.

"Where're we going anyhow?" she asked at last.

"To accomplish our quests," I replied.

"Are you going to enlighten me with the where and how?"

"I shall when I know that for myself."

A tangle of sagebrush to our left rustled ominously, and I drew my lightsaber and turned to face it.

"Better come out, whoever you are," Jessa advised. "This guy's nasty when he's pissed."

"You again?" came the all-too-familiar sneer as a blaster-wielding figure emerged from hiding.

"Hello again, Cleiko," I greeted.

The Gungan Lieutenant twisted her lip in a grimace. "Back to harass us some more, I see." She glanced around, as if expecting the other five of us to materialize at any given moment. "Where's your friends?"

"It's a long story," Jessa began.

"And we'd be happy to hear it in its entirety shortly," Grievous rasped, stepping out from behind the sagebrush screen. "Jessalyn! I had hoped we would meet again."

"Grievous," she said brightly. But she hesitated and looked plaintively at me, as if seeking permission.

"Go on," I urged her. "You don't need my consent."

Her eyes sparkled as if she were smiling, and she strode toward Grievous and embraced him. His reptilian eyes registered shock for a moment, then he laughed and returned the gesture.

Cleiko gave me an incredulous look. I just shrugged. I had seen stranger things.

"What brings you here?" he asked. "Are you seeking out your family?"

"Not really…" she confessed.

"What brings you to Earth?" I asked.

He laughed. "I'm allowed to visit my property once in awhile, am I not?" he retorted. "Besides, when I see an unidentified ship preparing to land on my planet, I have to investigate…"

The ring suddenly burned, and at the same instant a plume of dust flared on the horizon.

"Something's coming," hissed Cleiko, bringing her weapon to bear again.

"If we've been spotted, we could be in trouble," Jessa said uneasily. "I mean, Vader might be able to get away with it, but not the rest of us…"

Shapes were visible on the horizon now… silhouettes of powerful, quadrupedal beasts that bolted gracefully across the desert, proud and free…

"Mustangs!" Jessa exclaimed, her apprehension becoming awe.

"Horses," I corrected.

"Wild horses are called mustangs in these parts," Grievous corrected. He draped a metallic arm around Jessa's shoulders. "Shall I round up a few of them for you, my dear?"

She shook her head, her gaze never leaving the mustangs. "They deserve to run wild here. There are so few of them left… in high school my girlfriends and I would come out here every weekend hoping to see the wild horses, but the most we ever saw were hoofprints… and once a skull, Angie took it home but her mom made her throw it away…"

Unbidden a memory surfaced… a memory of a wounded black stallion… of a circle of stones and a power as old as the stars streaming through my blood… of a midnight ride across the wilds of Endor… of a promise of aid…

…_For helping me, this is your reward… for helping our people, our herd, something is still owed… watch well, Bearer of the Ring, for there will come a day when our kind will help you as you helped us…_

I closed my eyes and extended my awareness to touch the minds of these creatures. They were not the least bit startled at my attempts to communicate, but they were reluctant to comply with my request. I maintained the connection, allowing them to sense that I meant them no harm.

"Boss, the herd…" Cleiko barked.

"Let them alone," Grievous told her sharply. "We will see about acquiring some tame horses to add to my menagerie…"

"The herd's coming right for us!" she clarified, blaster up and ready to fire.

"Stampede!" hissed Jessa. "Darth, can you turn them away?"

"No," I replied, severing my mental bond and turning to face her.

"Why not?" she demanded.

"Because," I replied simply, "I called them."

Her eyes flashed with confusion and fear, but before she could speak any more the thunder of hooves was upon us. A mass of bodies surrounded us, gray upon brown upon black upon tan upon white. I counted over a dozen of the beasts, ranging from a gangly piebald colt to the magnificent blood-bay stallion with a white star between his eyes that stepped forward as regally as a king to confront me.

I raised my ring-bearing hand and placed it upon his brow, where a horn would be on a unicorn, and he shivered slightly at the touch as he recognized the material of the ring.

"Some time ago," I told him solemnly, "a comrade of yours placed your kind in my debt. That debt is still owing. I have need of you."

His proud head raised, and a liquid brown eye regarded me expectantly. "What do you require?"

The ring provided the answer. "I have a mission to fulfill… but I cannot do it unaided. I need the aid of a greater power."

"We know the source of such a power," came the reply, and he lowered his head. "Upon my back, and I will take you there."

Jessa gaped as I mounted the stallion. "He's letting you ride him?"

I extended a hand. "Come with me, Jessa. You can return to Grievous once we have found what we're looking for."

She turned and gave the cyborg general an apologetic look. "Be right back."

Grievous nodded, an amused gleam in his eyes.

Jessa climbed on behind me, and with a lunge the stallion plunged ahead, the rest of his herd close behind. I clung to his mane, reveling in the power and speed, the thrill of the chase, the feeling of near-weightlessness, almost of flight…

Abruptly our steed turned sharply, leaping into a shallow canyon. His hooves thundered upon the stone as he plunged on ahead. Jessa's claws tightened on my arms as the stallion leaped a slide, expertly navigated the jags of the ravine…

And slid to such an abrupt halt it was all I could do to avoid flying over his head.

"Here," he said simply.

I dismounted. Jessa slid off like a sack of baggage, lying dazedly on the ground a few moments before scrambling to her feet.

"Please tell me this thing didn't take us where I think he took us," she muttered.

"Where would that be?" I asked.

"La Copa de Muerta," she replied. "Cup of Death. Sacred Indian site. It's supposedly cursed… and haunted."

The canyon dead-ended scarcely a dozen meters ahead in a wall of sandstone and a bowl-shaped depression in the ground. A scattering of humble objects lay in the dust at the base of the wall – a painted clay pot, a woven rug, a knife blade whose handle had long since rotted away, and other paraphernalia. Upon the cliff face itself were designs and figures painted on or etched into the stone. Animals and human figures, of course, but dominating was the image of a great winged reptile…

"This is a Place of Power," the stallion said gravely. "Spirits come here. Strange things happen by moonlight. Perhaps here you may find what you seek, Bearer of the Ring."

I stroked the great neck one last time. "Go, my friend, and may the Force be with you."

He tossed his head and was gone in a burst of dust.

Jessa watched him go. Then she turned to me expectantly. "What was that all about?"

I did not answer, only gazed upon La Copa de Muerta. Cursed and haunted… source of spirits and strange happenings…

I stepped forward, letting my right foot land within the boundaries of the Place of Power. Immediately the energies of this sacred site poured into me, melding with the power of the dragon and the power of the Force. I let it flood me, let myself become a vessel for the power that it might do what needed to be done…

Then it happened.

The ring – my mother's legacy, my inheritance, my guide and protector – slid off my finger and fell with a metallic ring upon the stony ground.

Jessa and I stared mutely at the ring, too stunned for words. I had worn the ring for so long, it had almost become part of me. It felt strange to be separated from it, and so suddenly.

Jessa stooped, picked up the ring, and wordlessly handed it to me.

I held my inheritance in my palm, wondering at how it had helped me so much over the past year. Removed from me, it seemed lifeless and dull, a curl of yellowed horn and nothing else. I knew somehow that, if I attempted to put it back on, it would be either too large or too small for my fingers, that it would never fit.

"You don't need it anymore," Jessa noted. "It knows that."

I lifted my gaze to look at her. "Go back to the shuttle, Jessa. Retrieve my journals and the journals of my mother and ancestor, as well as the objects the others have left behind. Bring them here. After that… you're free to go. The fellowship has dissolved."

She nodded. "I'll be back. And Darth… you be careful. Magic's a screwy thing…"

And she loped off in the direction the stallion had gone.

I turned to face the painting of the dragon and knelt in the center of the Place of Power, feeling its energy course through me, listening and waiting.

_Break…_

The rumors that La Copa de Muerta are haunted are more or less true, it would seem. As I knelt within its boundaries countless faces from my past showed themselves. None spoke… but then, words were not needed.

I saw a brilliant white horse with a spiral horn of gold upon his brow, eyes infinitely wise and sorrowful, nodding his approval before galloping off.

I saw Talitha and Jasper. Stars, she was beautiful. Her smile alone could move a man to tears. And Jasper… in human form, he was every bit as intimidating as ever. How I longed to speak to them again.

I saw my mother, Shmi Skywalker. There was a sadness to her features, as if she regretted that I had discovered my true heritage. But there was also pride – of all things pride! Despite all that I had done, she chose to honor me for my accomplishments, not shun me for my sins.

I saw my Padme, my angel. That was perhaps hardest of all. Had I not killed her in my anger? Had I not become a monster before her very eyes? But there was no hatred in her expression, only love. Only forgiveness. And in her eyes… a longing. A desire to be reunited with me… yet an acceptance, the patience to wait until I had completed my mission on this plane.

I saw Qui-gon and Obi-wan, the former beaming with pride, the latter's face apologetic. I could no longer hate my Master, for how could he have known his pupil was not fully human and could not be contained by the Codes of his day?

I saw a young man, unfamiliar to my eyes, his black hair styled in short spikes, clad in ragged trousers and a simple shirt that declared "Keep Staring – I Might Do A Trick." I strained to place him somewhere… then recognized the eyes.

He offered me a smile, as if to say "Say hi to my sister for me." Then Harley vanished as the rest of the spirits had.

I had many other visitors from beyond the grave, enough to fill a book on their own. But of them all, I judged the above to be of the most import.

_Break…_

I had one other visitor that night.

Dusk had fallen by this point, the sky taking on purple hues as the sun faded from view. By this time I had familiarized myself with the power here, and I realized that it was not a steady stream of magic – it ebbed and flowed like the tide. If I wished to utilize the power to its full potential, I would have to wait until it reached its peak.

The rumble of an engine interrupted my meditation, and I looked up to see a battered vehicle resembling a four-wheeled swoop bike snarl to a halt. The rider dismounted casually and removed a bundle from the back of the vehicle, then stepped forward to the Place of Power.

"Who are you?" I asked.

His black eyes shone amusedly from under the visor of his helmet. "Tribal wise man." He must have sensed my puzzlement, and he laughed good-naturedly. "We've adopted the new ways, son, but we still hold onto our heritage."

I nodded. There was no shame in that.

"If you're wanting help from the spirits," the wise man advised, "you might want to leave an offering."

An offering? It couldn't hurt, I supposed. Magic could be finicky, and perhaps it was indeed awaiting an offering before it allowed me full access to it. But I had nothing to give.

"Anything'll do, as long as it's given freely and has some significance for you."

I reached for my belt and drew the Vong knife. My blood still stained the grooves in the blade, and as I gazed upon the weapon I recalled how the Vong's attack had finally awakened my dragon power, had finally driven me to accept my father's identity and legacy. They had intended to destroy the galaxy as we knew it… but instead they had granted me a gift.

With great reverence I laid the knife beneath the dragon painting.

"Good choice." The wise man laid a few items beside the blade, then turned to me. "Need a blanket or something? Nights here get awfully cold."

"No," I told him. "You have done enough for me."

He smiled and lowered the visor of his helmet. "I won't tell. I'm good at keeping a secret." He boarded his vehicle. "May the Force be with you."

"And with you."

The vehicle sputtered to life and roared away.

_Break…_

Jessa returned soon after the wise man's departure, and she listened with interest as I described our encounter.

"Wish I could have seen his ATV, those are cool," she noted. "And yeah, some magic does require ritual and offerings. Good thing he showed up."

She handed me a bundle. I opened it to ensure its contents were intact – Fleur and Talitha's journals, my account of my life before the ring, the unfinished chronicle of my journey with the ring, Ash's feather, Nightwind's tooth, Fett's carving, Tuck's ID card, and the memento from Luke's mother.

"I must ask one more thing of you, Jessa."

"Sure, anything."

"I will be gone by morning. When I leave… please make sure these reach Luke. They will rightfully be his."

"Will do." She scuffed the dirt with a clawed foot. "Grievous and I won't be going until tomorrow afternoon, actually, so that works out fine."

"Then your fate lies with him."

"I love him. He loves me. We belong together. He told me I would always have a place with him… and I'm taking it." She gazed upon the dragon image. "Are you sure this is what YOU want?"

"Yes," I replied without hesitation. "This is my path."

She reached into the folds of her cloak and withdrew something. "Here, add this to the package. Don't need it anymore."

I took her MP3 player and added it to the bundle, then offered her something in return – the crystal brooch that had been Grievous' first gift to her.

We said nothing for a long time. I would miss Jessa. Her presence had always provided us with wisdom, humor, and a biting wit. Her knowledge of the ring had proven invaluable, and her ability to make us laugh had saved our sanity more than once. In some ways, she was as much a daughter to me as Leia. I hoped her path would bring her some much-needed happiness.

"We should have a big reunion sometime," she said lightly. "Couple years down the road, all seven of us. Have it at the Shadow's place. Catch up on things and party."

I laughed. "That would be wonderful."

"Oh, by the way, Happy Birthday," she wished me. "And Happy Halloween while we're at it." She embraced me. "Take care of yourself, Darth Dragon. Remember me."

"I shall."

And she was gone.

_Break…_

This is the last I shall write.

Once I have completed this entry, I will bind this journal into the package I have prepared for Luke. As my son, he is the rightful heir to its contents – and the rightful heir to the ring.

Everyone in our fellowship has left something behind, and my contribution shall be my lightsaber. I have no use for it where I am going. And as Obi-wan gave it to my son in the first place, it is rightfully his. May he wield it well.

The ring also goes into the package. It has served me well all this time, and I thank the Shadow for her aid in discovering it that day – for it was surely her that drew my attention to the secret chamber within the Emperor's palace.

It has been exactly one year since that fateful afternoon when I discovered the unicorn ring and the dragon's egg – for there can be no doubt that the second case in that chamber contained my egg and, with it, my misshapen former body. In that time I have accomplished and learned more than I ever thought possible… and all because of an eccentric sorceress and an ancient ring. I am indebted forever to the Shadow, and it is my hope that I will cross paths with her again and find some way to repay her.

It is All Hallows' Eve, a night of powerful magic. A full moon, as blazingly red-gold as a phoenix, rides high upon the velvet black sky. The energy of the Place of Power is at its height.

It is time.

At one time I had rejected my dragon blood. At another time a foe had spilled it… and unlocked its secrets.

Tonight, at long last, I embrace it.

May the Force be with all whom I have loved.


	32. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

I, Luke Skywalker, have taken it upon myself to complete the journal of Anakin Skywalker, my father.

I don't know why it took me so long to do this. Five years have passed since I last saw my father, and during that time I have read and re-read his journals and Jessa's appended message. Perhaps it was because in my heart I felt that leaving his journal unfinished would somehow mean he would be compelled to return and complete it himself. Or perhaps I simply didn't want to record anything on these pages without his consent. At any rate, this record has been incomplete for some time… and it's time it was finished.

As I read my father's journals, I recalled something Fett told us all long ago – that those closest to you can prove to be the most complete of strangers. I thought I had come to know my father's identity during our travels. But within the pages of his memoirs I discovered a far different Anakin Skywalker than I had ever imagined, one that was far more complex than the father I knew. Perhaps I will never fully know exactly who he was.

As for the end of his story… Jessa provided it.

It was almost six months after I had said my final goodbye to Jessa and my father when a package was delivered to the newly restored Jedi Temple. No one seemed to have any idea where it had come from – it was as if it had appeared out of thin air on the doorstep of the Temple, like a foundling.

Of course, I knew who the sender had to be, and once I had taken it to my quarters I tore it open as eagerly as a child opening a birthday gift. Inside I found the books… and the ring.

At first I took the ring to mean my father had passed away. I opened the journal detailing our travels with the fellowship and skipped ahead until I reached the point just after our separation. I read about his landing on Earth, his reencounter with Grievous… and his separation from the ring.

And sandwiched between the page bearing the final entry and the back cover was a folded note, written in a careful hand.

_Hey Luke! How's life after our jaunt treating you? Heard on the news that your Academy opened up on Corusant. Congrats! Hope they aren't working you too hard._

_I've settled down with General Grievous now, and I've never been happier. But you didn't open this hoping to hear from me, I know. You want to know about your father. I'll explain it as best I can, but it was such a strange night that I'm not sure my words can do it justice._

_After I left your father for the last time, I went with Grievous to retrieve the shuttle from the plateau, just in case some nosy Earthlings came calling. He'd sent some of his human henchmen into town to take care of some business, and we were just sitting down to talk about my adventures since we'd last met._

_Up until that point it had been a relatively calm night, but all of a sudden the wind picked up. And I do mean picked up – I think the only reason the two of us didn't up and blow away is because we're mostly metal and heavy. And for some odd reason, all I could think about as the wind did its best to topple us over was the Shadow, and how it was always so windy around her place…_

_It took us some time to get to La Copa de Muerta because we had to fight against the wind to get there. I thought we would never reach the end of the canyon. Part of me didn't even want to reach it, because I was scared of what we would find there._

_Your father was there. He'd spent most of the day there. And now… now he stood within the center of that Place of Power, back to us, eyes fixed on the Indian dragon painting before him, his arms spread as if he were about to fly._

_Something told me to keep my mouth shut. But you know me – I was never good at shutting up._

"_Darth!" I cried out to him. I never could get used to the Anakin bit, but I'm not sure it would have made much difference. At any rate, he turned at the sound of my voice._

_I'll never forget what I saw next. He was still Darth Vader, still in the armor… but there was something changed about him, something unreal, dreamlike. He seemed to shimmer with power, as if I was seeing him through a wall of hot air. And his eyes… they glowed blue through the lenses of his mask. The image was so eerie that I still see it in my dreams sometimes._

_Grievous took a step back and pulled me with him. We could only stare at what happened next._

_And what happened next… wasn't what I expected. In the movies, shape-changing is always a big deal. You watch whatever it is that's changing morph from one form to the next, or become a liquid and take on its new shape, or there's a lot of light and noise and smoke involved. Not here, not now. It was just… one moment an armored man stood there, the next…_

_Funny. I always thought he'd be black. If not to match the armor, then at least to resemble his father. But he wasn't. He was red, a deep shining red, as if every scale had been carved from ruby. He was huge, easily as big as the rancor at Jabba's palace, and somehow I got the sense that he wasn't finished growing – after all, he's still pretty young for his kind. He shone under the moonlight, so beautiful I felt like crying. And his eyes…_

_They were human, and blue, and shining with a fire that could only be magic._

_He was truly the Son of the Dragon now._

_He bent his head low, and Grievous tried to pull me away. But the dragon meant us no harm – he only pushed the package closer to me, as if to remind me of my promise._

_Then he spoke two words – "Remember me."_

_Then he leaped into the sky, his wings spread so wide they seemed to fill the sky with ruby, and I watched with tears in my eyes as he circled like a hawk on the wind, soaring higher and higher until he was a blood-red star high above… then gone._

_I wish you could have been there to see it, Luke. The privilege of seeing him off was rightfully yours. I'm sorry it could not have been you that saw his transformation. He looked so happy, not just to be whole again, but to finally be what he was truly meant to be._

_Dang it, I'm crying now just thinking about it. I'll hurry and finish this before I drip on the paper._

_May the Force be with you, Luke. And may we meet again._

_Jessalyn Davidson_

I read her message several times, absorbing the contents until I felt as if I had been standing there with her, witnessing the incredible transformation. How I wished I could have been there.

Of the others of our company… to this day I have not heard from any of them. No golden phoenix or Force-sensitive bounty hunter has arrived at the Academy to discuss old times. I have yet to come across an exceptionally intelligent acklay or a Mandalorian trainer in my travels. And though I continue to hold out hope, I have not seen or heard from my father or his kin.

Not yet, anyway.

I never told anyone in the Alliance aside from Leia and Han precisely why I was gone for so long, and they have yet to ask. I suppose they figure they shouldn't meddle in Jedi affairs. I dislike keeping secrets from them… but at the same time, what we shared on that journey is something intensely sacred to me, and so long as they keep silent on my absence, I see no reason to tell.

Sometimes my youngest students will come into my quarters at night, seeking comfort after a nightmare or fighting off a wave of homesickness. They'll often peer into the locked transparisteel case I keep by my bed, asking about its contents, and I'll hold them on my lap and tell an amazing and only slightly embellished tale about a brave warrior holding off a pack of griffons, a magic bird rescuing a princess and her beloved, a dragon-man facing down an alien army, a Jedi Knight slaying a hideous beast to protect a village, a droid with the voice of an angel taming a savage killer, an Imperial soldier turning to the side of justice and saving a city…

And sometimes, when I'm alone, I open the case and turn the pages of the journals, or I touch a multicolored feather, a yellowed tooth, a jappor pendant, a trooper's ID card, a griffon-bone carving, an electronic music player, or a weathered lightsaber, just to remind myself that they are not just stories, but real.

The ring has a place of honor outside the case – it hangs from a thin chain around my neck, under my robes, at all times. And on occasion I remove it from the chain and test it on my fingers. It's always too small, but I can never quite shake the feeling that someday it will fit.

For sometimes in my dreams the ring slides easily on and stays there, and a blue-eyed red dragon returns to take me on another adventure, and a silver-robed sorceress awaits our return…

**Author's Note**

This is going to be LONG, I will warn you, and some might find the information herein boring. The reader is under no obligation to read this.

I have been accused from time to time of trying to cross absolutely everything I read or watch with Star Wars. This is, in my opinion, an unfair assumption. I am perfectly capable of reading a book or watching a movie – and enjoying it – without plotting a fanfic mixing it with my favorite space saga. Besides, I think attempting a _Star Wars/Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants_ crossover would seriously be pushing it.

When I first read Mary Brown's _The Unlikely Ones, _a fanfic of any kind, let alone a crossover, never crossed my mind. Likewise, though _Pigs Don't Fly _ended with a cliffhanger, no plot bunnies came to call. The final book in the series would surely answer my questions, I thought.

But when _Master of Many Treasures _cut off just as abruptly, leaving too many unanswered questions for my peace of mind, and my search for the sequel turned up fruitless, I cast about for a possible sequel of my own.

And so _Heir to the Ring _was born.

Sometimes writing a crossover can be a struggle – the worlds don't mesh very well, facts from one world contradict facts from another world, characters clash, etc. But as I put together _Heir to the Ring, _I was startled to find that the pieces just seemed to fall together naturally. And though my final vision is certainly far different from what Mary Brown had in mind, I at least hope that I have paid a respectful homage to her work.

Most of my fics are set during the old trilogy, especially in that year's time between ESB and ROTJ. This time I took a different approach – I set _Heir to the Ring _in a post-ROTJ world. It was interesting to explore a galaxy in chaos after the death of the Emperor, to think of what changes might take place… and what might stay the same through all the turmoil. I might revisit this territory someday…

A note on characters and their quests:

_Jasper and Ky-Lin: _Jasper appears in _Pigs Don't Fly _and _Master of Many Treasures, _the Ky-Lin in _Master of Many Treasures. _I have tried to keep them true to their counterparts in the books, though I eliminated the Ky-Lin's tendency to talk endlessly about Buddha and reincarnation, two concepts that would only have served to confuse our friends. (And for those who don't know, the Ky-Lin is also known, somewhat inaccurately, as the Chinese Unicorn).

_Shadow: _An entirely original character despite her connections to both Dickon and the Ancient from Mary Brown's work. The books are not specific on whether or not Dickon fathered any offspring, but seeing as his character was constantly in and out of brothels in _Master of Many Treasures, _I wouldn't be surprised to learn that the Shadow had plenty of half-siblings.

Many journey stories are guided along by an omnipotent sage or magician, but I decided that, for _Heir to the Ring's _purposes, the Shadow would be just as flawed and fallible as those she served. I wanted a mentor figure that the characters would be able to connect with, and giving her weaknesses and shortcomings made her less of a godly character and more accessible to the characters (and, I pray, the reader).

_Ash: _Also my creation, though I did draw heavily on mythology to put her character together. I can imagine that living forever, while it would have its perks at first, would eventually become tiresome and weary. It was interesting, if rather mind-boggling, to look through her eyes and try to comprehend outliving everything you once knew.

Kruvex, the site of Ash's quest, isn't on any galactic maps – I made it up (Almania, Raxus, and Anijj are "real" Star Wars planets, however). Kruvex was previously featured in my story "The Armor of Vader," though its native alien species was absent this time around. As for Tyra and Blade… maybe they deserve their own spinoff story?

_Nightwind: _Yes, there had to be a talking animal somewhere in this story, as they seem to be Mary Brown's trademark. For some reason the acklay was the one arena beastie in Episode II that caught my imagination, so I had to put him in here. I was disappointed to find little information available on his species, so I made most of it up. His homeworld of Vendaxa and his sensitivity to light, however, have been established already by official material.

I have no idea if krayt dragons come in red, or if a monster one haunts Mos Eisley, but then, that's the beauty of writing an AU. I was slightly disappointed when Lucas never chose to expound on the lives of Anakin's friends and foes on Tatooine after his departure, so I felt compelled to revisit them on Nightwind's quest, especially Anakin's childhood friend Kister.

_Fett: _I've written two other stories featuring a post-sarlaac Fett – the _Eye of the Storm _series and _Catacombs. _In both of those, Fett emerges from the sarlaac pretty much unscathed. In _Heir to the Ring, _I opted for the more realistic outcome – a Fett seriously ill from the effects of the beast's stomach acids. I apologize that the Fett in this story was not the kick-butt hunter everyone's familiar with, but I hope you enjoyed his presence all the same.

The Mandalorian history related during Fett's quest is accurate as far as the _Star Wars Insider _is (Issue #80, "History of the Mandalorians" by Abel G. Peña). I borrowed heavily from Greek and European mythology to create the griffons, though their hunger for magic is my own twist. The concept of griffons having two hearts comes from Peter S. Beagle's story "Two Hearts," a long-overdue sequel to his novel "The Last Unicorn" that is available in the October/November 2005 issue of _The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction._

_Tuck: _I've always liked stormtroopers and was slightly disappointed to learn from Episode II that they were clones. But the clone aspect did serve to open up further paths to be explored via fanfic. I believe that the character of Tuck is my first serious attempt to address the clone issue, as I can imagine that any difference, no matter how small, could make one an outcast in the clones' "family."

Wayland is a Star Wars planet, but I could find no information on it and so was left to my own devices to craft its climate, economy, and standing in the Empire. The elio plant is my own creation. Flame-carpet missiles come from Bossk's tale in the novel _Tales of the Bounty Hunters._

_Luke: _Ever since Episode II came out, I've been wondering if and when Obi-wan and Yoda would ever drop the bombshell that virtually kicked his father out of the Order – "A Jedi shall not know love." I can imagine that, if Luke ever learned of that part of the Code, he would be upset to say the very least, especially seeing as it was his love and the love of his father that ended up destroying the Sith and saving the galaxy. I know I've addressed the whole love issue in other stories, but I couldn't pass it up in this one either.

My knowledge of the Ewok culture comes from the two made-for-TV movies _Caravan of Courage _and _Battle for Endor _as well as selected episodes of the old Ewok cartoons. Yes, the Ewoks have horses; official sources confirm it. I take no credit for the taozin – it comes from the Michael Reaves novel _Darth Maul: Shadow Hunter._

_Jessa: _Blatant Mary Sue. There is no other way to put it. She gets more than her share of screen time, she falls for a villain and turns his heart around, her knowledge of the ring saves the group time and again… you get the drift. All the same, I at least hope she was an enjoyable Mary Sue.

General Grievous was an interesting character that got too little screen time and died way too early, so I decided to reincarnate him for this fic. Beyond that, not much to say regarding Jessa's quest.

_Vader: _Perhaps the character whom I took the most creative license with in the course of this fic. The concept of the midichlorians conceiving Anakin – a sort of Immaculate Conception – just didn't seem to click with me, and despite all Lucas' claims to the contrary I could not stop drawing parallels between Anakin's birth and Christ's. And in all honesty, though I love Star Wars, I draw the line at comparing Darth Vader to Jesus Christ. So when _Master of Many Treasures _left the fate of Jasper and Talitha's child in limbo, I couldn't pass up the opportunity. (I probably maxed out the weird factor with that, but what the hey…)

I have only read one New Jedi Order Book (_Dark Tide I: Onslaught_), so my information regarding the Yuuzhan Vong comes from and various miscellaneous articles and stories in _Star Wars Insider_. Yes, I brought them into the mix too early, but according to what I've heard they've been watching the galaxy for years. Maybe a faction of them jumped the gun, who knows?

And now… I just discovered our library carries the REAL final volume in the Unicorn Ring series, _Dragonne's Eg. _I now intend to read it and find out just how much my sequel deviates from Mary Brown's. Probably a great deal.

Once again I must thank you for your time and patience with this creation, and I sincerely hoped you enjoyed reading this story as much as I enjoyed crafting it.


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